


Soul Song

by ddelusionall



Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ, JYJ (Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Discussion of Past Abuse, Jaejoong can't hear his soul song, M/M, Soulmates, Tattoos, Yoochun gives him a chance anyway, but not soulmate ones, you and your soulmate share a song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:55:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 32,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23879512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ddelusionall/pseuds/ddelusionall
Summary: Jaejoong can't hear his soul song, not the way everyone is supposed to. He's given up on ever finding a soulmate. But he can't keep music completely out of his life, especially when Park Yoochun plays his way right into Jaejoong's heart.
Relationships: Jung Yunho (DBSK)/Park Yoohwan, Kim Jaejoong/Park Yoochun, Minor Kim Junsu/Shim Changmin
Kudos: 3





	1. Sweet Melody

**Author's Note:**

> I am importing my stories from LiveJournal. The original fic can be found [here](http://be-ddelusionall.livejournal.com/).
> 
> I haven't read this story in a long time, so I may have missed some tags. Just let me know if I did.

Jaejoong had stopped playing the pianos. He stopped holding his breath whenever a sweet melody of music trickled by him as he went to work. He tried to ignore the nervous yet hopeful young people moving from piano to piano, fingers shaking over ivory keys. Maybe this time. Even after no one approached after playing their piece, the young people were hopeful.

There were three pianos on his route to work. It was not the shortest route, but the one with the fewest pianos.

The last time Jaejoong saw someone find their soulmate, connect with the person who had the same music in their head, Jaejoong had almost panicked, right on the street. He’d turned around, rushed home, called in sick to work.

The one time he wore headphones to keep himself from hearing the pianos, the police had been called because so many people thought he was ill, crazy, going mad with too much music.

Jaejoong bought a skateboard. It was the fastest way to get to work without going completely insane.

Near one of the pianos was an altercation. Two people fighting over it. Every piano came with a sign that said, “Please only play for five minutes so others have the chance to find their soulmate! Thank you for your consideration! Happy Melody!”

Jaejoong ignored it as he zipped by. He worked at a stationery shop called, “Paper Notes,” selling paper covered in hearts, flowers and music notes complete with silly sayings like, “My heart sings for you!” and “My notes were gray until you turned them to sunshine.” Which didn’t make sense to Jaejoong because the notes of a soul song never changed. The soul song was a melody that radiated your heart and to find the one person who radiated the same music was what everyone lived for.

For everyone but Jaejoong.

His notes were not a melody. They were all the same. Eight of them. F major. Eight F majors.

He’d stopped playing the pianos a long time ago.

There had to be something wrong with him. No one ever had one note as their soul song. Even the doctors said so. It was with horror that one doctor had looked at him and gasped, “Tone deaf.”

And Jaejoong’s world shattered.

Tone deaf. It’s not that the notes in his head were the same, it was that he could not tell them apart. That was all. But he heard music. He heard songs. He liked to sing and he played around on the piano in his apartment. But the most important notes of his life were all the same. He hoped that his ability to hear notes meant he wasn’t actually tone deaf, because there was no cure for it. Maybe soon--

Jaejoong shook his head. Nearing thirty, he knew he’d never find his soulmate.

“Good morning, Jaejoong-ah,” Yoona said as he walked into the shop. She had opened the store almost six years ago, and was one of the more popular stores that catered to those in love with their soulmate.

Jaejoong smiled and bowed and said good morning. The shop was open from nine to seven. Yoona usually worked until one or two, and Jaejoong came in at noon and worked until close. Yoona's son Taemin usually worked the shorter Sunday shifts when they were only open from eleven to five, but because of high school entrance exams, Jaejoong had been working extra. It was only Wednesday. Three more days of walking by pianos before a bit of relief.

Jaejoong went to the counter and used the computer to clock in. The spots of the screen that he touched dinged at him in a familiar tune. He had tried to play that on one of the pianos on the street. But after only one time, he stopped. What if that had been someone’s soul song? What if he had given someone else the heartache of not having a soulmate?

He signed.

“Are you sick?” Yoona asked.

Jaejoong tried to smile. “No, noona, just ... pianos.”

Yoona tilted her head and frowned. Sympathy thick on her face. Yoona had found her soulmate when she was only nineteen, almost twenty years ago. Jaejoong turned away from her.

“There’s a box of new paper in the back. I want it on display before tomorrow.”

Jaejoong acknowledged the order and went about his work.

♪ ♫ ♪ ♫ ♪

“Do you have pads of paper with music staffs on them?”

Jaejoong looked up from a shelf and his mind went momentarily blank. The man before him was younger, probably twenty-four, maybe twenty-six. His hair was pulled up in a thick bun on his head, showing he had long hair. He wore nothing more than a comfortable T-shirt, a pretty coral color that was not quite orange, and jean shorts. Flip flops. His toenails were green. Painted green, and Jaejoong laughed before he could stop himself.

The man smiled back. “I babysit and she wanted to do my toes.”

Jaejoong grinned. “Sorry, I just ...”

“I will tell Seoyeong that her artwork was appreciated by the handsome man in the paper shop.”

Jaejoong flushed at the handsome part.

“I write music,” the man continued, “and I’m on my last sheet of staff paper. I thought I’d buy some more before inspiration hit.”

Jaejoong shook his head. “Sorry. We have lots of paper with music staffs on them, but they’re usually used for love letters and not actual music.”

The man smiled, and Jaejoong died a little because he was so attractive, with a round face and dimples in his cheek, plump lips.

“Well, I’ll look around anyway. I’m always looking for a pencil. Maybe if I buy more, I won’t lose them as often.”

Jaejoong laughed. The man sauntered by him, not in a hurry, stopping to look at some of the pink pads of paper and colored markers. Jaejoong tried to finish organizing the shelves and not look at him. He was so handsome. He was Jaejoong’s height, with broad shoulders and a casual grace to him that had Jaejoong almost whimpering.

He was so relaxed, just utterly content, and that meant he had met his soulmate already. No one that perfectly happy would still be alone.

Jaejoong’s throat tightened and he bit back a noise of distress.

He moved to the front of the store, away from the man, and straightened up the display of small stuffed animals.

A few minutes later, Jaejoong realized that he was hearing music. Nothing out of the complete ordinary, but it was coming from inside the store, and when he was alone, he turned all music off and he even took the bells off the door. It was too painful to listen to music sometimes.

But there was music. Notes, random notes. Not being played, but sung, and Jaejoong moved back toward the front counter of the store, toward the other man. He stood near the center of the store, a pad of blue paper in his hand. He had a bright purple pen, and he was scribbling along the music staff on the paper. That pad of paper said, “You’re playing my song” on every page.

Jaejoong decided he had a nice voice. Deep, a little gravely. Jaejoong wondered if he smoked.

And then the man’s head tilted to the side, his notes stopped, he wrote a few notes and then sang, “La la la la la la la la.”

Eight notes.

Eight F majors.

Wind rushed through Jaejoong’s head.

“What ... You ...”

“Sorry,” he said and smiled. “I guess I’m buying this.”

He shut the pad and put it and the pen and a box of pencils covered with music notes on the counter.

Jaejoong stared, mouth open.

“What?” the man asked, stiffening a bit in suspicion.

“Those ... the last ... those notes ... you just sang.”

His eyes went wide. “What about them?”

“Sing them again.”

“Why?”

“They ... sound ... oh god.” Jaejoong put his hands on the counter and tried to breathe.

Again, eight F majors. Sung in such a strong voice.

Jaejoong swallowed. “Eight F majors,” he whispered.

“Eight F majors? What are you talking about?”

Jaejoong gripped a wrist to his chest. A firm hand touched his shoulder, squeezing a little.

“Are you okay?”

Jaejoong shook his head. “Eight ... didn’t you just sing eight ...”

“No. I didn’t.”

“But I heard ... I heard you ... they ...”

“Not eight F majors,” he said firmly.

Jaejoong swallowed again, and managed to shake himself out of the moment. For a little while.

“Sorry. I ... I’m not that good at music.”

The man looked at him, eyes narrowed a bit in suspicion.

Shaking, Jaejoong rang up his purchases. The man paid with a card, quick to sign, quick to take the bag from him, and Jaejoong stared after him. He’d heard eight F majors. There was no way he had not. The same notes had been echoing in his head since he was sixteen, almost half his life.

Jaejoong wailed, actually wailed and fell to the ground behind the counter. He felt tears on his face.

It was bad enough that he could not hear his soul song. But it was even worse to know that someone else heard it and he had no way to play it for him.

♪ ♫ ♪ ♫ ♪

Jaejoong called in sick to work.

Yoona sighed and demanded to know why.

Jaejoong was silent for a moment and then gushed out the story because in his life, Yoona was the only one who had given him a chance after finding out about his soul song.

“It could have been nothing,” she said carefully. “You don’t know what they sound like.”

Jaejoong fought the urge to argue. But he heard everything else. He’d heard everything else the man had sang. Every clear note. Every deep sound.

The memory had him shaking.

“I will see if Taeminnie can cover your shift, but please come in if you feel better. He has to study.”

“I will, noona. I’m sorry. I’m such a mess.”

“I understand.”

_No, you don’t._

Jaejoong hung up the phone and went to his piano and played eight F majors.

It didn’t sound right. It didn’t sound the same.

Jaejoong cried out in frustration. He knew he wasn’t sick enough to call off work. He just did not want to walk by the pianos. He made sure all the lights were off, all the curtains closed, his small apartment as dark as possible with the morning light reminding him how dreary his soul was. He sank back into bed and fought back more tears. Too many tears.

What if it hadn’t been the same?

What if Jaejoong had imagined it?

And if he hadn’t, how could he convince the man, how ... he’d have to see him again, and he hadn’t been a regular customer, just a walk in. Jaejoong would have been lucky to see him again.

As the day brightened his apartment, Jaejoong sighed and got out of bed. He was not sick. He was not ill enough to take the day off work. He needed the money. Finally climbing from bed, he called Taemin to let him know he was coming. Taemin sounded relieved.

Jaejoong wondered why he could hear that, the small inflection in Taemin’s voice, but he could not hear his soul song.

♪ ♫ ♪ ♫ ♪

Taemin did not even say hello to him when Jaejoong arrived. He said, “Thank god, you do look like shit, hyung, but thank god. I have a test tomorrow.”

“Sorry,” Jaejoong muttered.

Taemin waved him away on his way out the door. “Some guy left his wallet here. It’s under the counter. He said he’d be in about five to pick it up.”

Jaejoong’s acknowledgement was drowned out by the bells on the door. He quickly moved to them, took them down, and then went to the back to turn off the stupid, sappy pop love songs blaring through the speakers.

Jaejoong went to the counter and found the misplaced wallet. Worn, brown leather. It folded open, and there in a little plastic sleeve was the ID card for Park Yoochun. The man who had been in the day before. The man who had the secret code to Jaejoong’s soul. He fought back tears and stared at the picture. He was twenty-four, Jaejoong’s same height, almost the same weight. The address listed was one a bit further in town, a nice neighborhood, completely out of Jaejoong’s realm of existence. Without this wallet, there was no way that Jaejoong would have ever seen him again. Was that fate? Did it mean something?

He felt the world rushing around him again. It was three in the afternoon. He had about two hours to practice what to say. The truth? No, he couldn’t. It wasn’t ... there was no way the man would believe him.

But there was nothing else for him to say. Nothing. Because Park Yoochun did not hear eight F majors. He heard another song. Their song. Their soul song. The one thing that meant they were destined. And Jaejoong had no problems being destined to a man like Park Yoochun who was gracious, polite, and kind. And gorgeous. He wrote music and babysat and wasn’t embarrassed about having green toenails.

Their store closed at seven, and it was after six before Park Yoochun walked through the door. Jaejoong had given up hope.

The man was dressed up compared to the day before: slacks and a white button down. His hair was pulled back away from his face in a long ponytail. He even had a bit of makeup on, eyeliner, and Jaejoong’s body swayed. He looked so good. Too good. Too good for Jaejoong.

Their eyes met, and Yoochun’s smile fell, and Jaejoong turned his head, biting his lip. He felt tears in his eyes, and only managed to grab the wallet from under the counter because he had been touching it all day. He couldn’t see. He couldn’t breathe.

“T-thanks,” Park Yoochun said.

Jaejoong nodded and did not look at him.

There were footsteps, taking Yoochun farther away from him. Farther, out of his life, and Jaejoong made a noise of anguish.

The door did not open.

And then, eight notes. Eight F majors, and Jaejoong’s head shot up. He lips trembled and the fragile hold he had on his sanity snapped and he cried, letting tears drip down his cheeks.

“You can’t hear it,” Yoochun said, almost accused.

Jaejoong shook his head. “I know, but neither can you.”

Yoochun looked out the door, arms crossed, and he sighed. “It isn’t eight F majors.”

Jaejoong nodded. “I know that, but please, you have to understand. I ... I can hear everything else. But ... just not ... I don’t know why I can’t hear it. I’ve never been able to hear anything else.”

“How old are you?” Yoochun asked.

“Twenty-nine.”

Yoochun sighed again. “What’s your name?”

Jaejoong tried not to smile, tried not to let his heart soar with hope. Hope. It was a strange thing. “Kim Jaejoong.”

Yoochun turned his back like he was going to leave, but he didn’t and Jaejoong waited. It felt like hours before Yoochun huffed. He went to a shelf and took down some notebook paper and then walked back to the counter. He snagged the pen from the counter and used it to write in the book.

Jaejoong bit his lip and waited.

Yoochun looked up, met his eyes, and they were so guarded, but just as hopeful as Jaejoong’s. He spun the pad around.

Jaejoong looked down at it. Music notes. Eight of them. F majors.

“Don’t tell me what you see, but write it. Underneath mine. Don’t lie.”

Jaejoong’s hand shook as he took the pen. His skin tingled where their fingers touched. Jaejoong’s lines were not nearly as straight as Yoochun’s, but he didn’t need them to be. He wrote out eight F majors.

Yoochun frowned, and turned away, leaning against the counter. He ran his hands over his face with a frustrated growl. “This is insane. How can I actually believe ...”

“Sorry,” Jaejoong whispered. “The doctors think I’m internally tone deaf, but I can hear everything else. Every note, every voice, every instrument. Except these eight. Even on my piano at home, eight F majors don’t sound like that in my head.”

“I am having a hard time believing this,” Yoochun said.

Jaejoong sighed and whispered, “I know. I’m so sorry.”

Yoochun turned around. “B-flat F F C D C B-flat G.”

“What?”

“Write it down.” Yoochun repeated it. “And the beat, write the beat under it. It’s not just the notes.”

Jaejoong’s hand shook even more as he wrote down the notes of his soul that Yoochun held. “I know the rhythm. The rhythm doesn’t change.”

“I have to go,” he said and then below the eight letters, he wrote down his phone number. “I know better than to write down my soul song,” he muttered, almost to himself.

Jaejoong understood. It was easy to play a song when you had the music for it. Easy to fake a soul song. Sometimes the hope of finding your soulmate was enough to ignore what your soul knew, your soul understood what it wanted, who it needed. It was why Jaejoong was so sure about this even if all he heard were F majors.

“This is highly ...”

“Illegal?” Jaejoong offered.

“It might as well be. Fuck. This ... Call me. If they sound ... if they ... Even if they don’t, call me anyway, hell, maybe we can be friends. ”

“I will.”

Yoochun met his eyes and took a very deep breath. And then he smiled, a beautiful wide smile that even shined from his eyes. “I’ll take tone deaf over ugly any day. You are a handsome man, Kim Jaejoong.”

Jaejoong blushed and rubbed his arm. “So are you.”

His smile widened and he nodded at the notepad. “You going to pay for that or should I?”

Jaejoong brought it up to his chest and nodded. “I will. It holds the most precious part of my soul.”

Yoochun glanced at the door again and then swallowed roughly. “Fuck. Just ...”

It actually looked like he might cry.

“I hope they’re all F majors,” he said and then was gone, out the door.

Jaejoong smiled and whispered, “Me, too.”

♪ ♫ ♪ ♫ ♪

Jaejoong was very careful while closing the store, trying not to rush, counting the sold inventory, closing down the till. He put the bells back on the door, the noise not nearly as jarring as normal.

He walked home, skateboard in his hand, and for the first time in a long time, he itched to play the pianos on his route home. He took the short route, where there were five pianos. Only one was in use, by a sweet girl who was floundering a little through her soul song. High notes. Quick and happy.

It made Jaejoong smile. His hand shook with his apartment keys, and he almost dropped them. He entered his dark apartment and fought the urge to go right to the piano.

He lost.

With only a lamp on, he settled the notepad on the top of the piano. He did not even sit. He held his breath and pressed the B flat. It did not sound like an F major. Disheartening sure, but it was only a single note. He waited a few seconds before going to the F major. It hurt a little that this note was part of his soul song. Two of them, and then up to a C, a D, a C, another B flat, and finally a G.

Each note by itself did not sound like an F major. He played them again, a little faster, but still not in the beat in his head. That was hard, but he was determined. He learned the notes first, just so there were no mistakes.

He shut his eyes, felt the beat of the song in his heart, and played the notes to that rhythm.

When they came out as just notes and not F majors, Jaejoong huffed and tried again. But it was the same. Maybe he was doing it wrong, playing it differently, too stiff. He tried again. And then again. He tried until he couldn’t see the keys anymore and he pulled himself away from the piano and buried himself in bed.


	2. Peace and Harmony

Morning came too early and too late. Jaejoong had not slept for a very long time. He had stared at his piano. The notes mocked him, dancing through his head. He didn’t exercise, he didn’t eat. He dragged himself out of bed with just enough time to shower and get to his shift on time.

He staggered through his apartment, randomly breathing deep, randomly crying. Too good to be true. With his morning cup of coffee, he pondered his phone and what to say when he called Yoochun to tell him the bad news. In the end, he chickened out and sent a text.

_I’m sorry I got your hopes up. It is a beautiful soul song._

Almost immediately, his phone rang. He thought of not answering when he saw it was Yoochun, and then sighed and answered with a very timid greeting.

“Maybe you’re playing it wrong,” he said instead of hello.

Jaejoong tried to smile and sort of sobbed instead. “The rhythm doesn’t change.”

“It can, person to person, and you know it.”

“Not for a soul song.”

“What’s your address?”

“Huh?”

“Your address. I’ll come over and play it for you. You’ll see.”

“But ... it’s not ...”

“And if it isn’t, then okay. I didn’t lie about wanting to be your friend.”

Jaejoong bit his lip and then took a deep breath. “I don’t ... I don’t want you to be so hopeful. You can’t.”

“Hopeful is okay,” Yoochun said. “Heartache is okay too. It’s what fuels my music. But so does friendship. So does love. Please. Let me come and play for you.”

Jaejoong gave him his address.

“I will be there in a half hour.” And he hung up, without even saying goodbye.

A half an hour. Jaejoong had to be at work soon. But this was important. He finished his coffee, took a shower, and was just pulling a button down shirt over his shoulders when there was a firm, rapid knock on the door. He wasn’t really fast enough to get there, trying to get the buttons straight on his shirt at the same time, and the door opened, letting in a slightly disheveled Yoochun.

But god, he looked good. Out of breath, like he ran up the stairs, long hair mostly loose around his head, some pulled back in a floppy bun. And glasses. He was wearing glasses. A blue t-shirt, shorts, flipflops.

He glanced around, saw Jaejoong and went right to him, stopping just out of reach. Well, just in reach, and he did, reached forward, fingers brushing cool against Jaejoong’s stomach. His tattoo. Right.

It was an empty music staff, just under his belly button.

Jaejoong shut his eyes and stepped a little closer. Yoochun’s hand went around his waist, under his shirt. His other hand cupped his cheek and then he was leaning forward, lips brushing, and then joining for a longer moment. Jaejoong put shaking arms around his waist. It was so easy to kiss him. He didn’t even know this man, and it was so natural. Did that mean something?

“Good morning, beautiful,” Yoochun said against his lips.

Jaejoong tittered out a noise, sort of a sob, sort of a laugh.

Yoochun pulled away and smiled. “Sorry I just barged in. I wanted to see you. Reassure you. Just something. You looked so sad, but come on.” He took Jaejoong’s hand and led him to the piano. The notebook was still there, the page ruined from Jaejoong’s tears.

Yoochun sat on the bench and trailed his fingers through a quick scale of looping notes, all the way up to the highest note. “Beautiful sound. You take good care of her.” He went back down, twirling through complicated scales to the lowest notes.

“Her?”

“Of course. Unless ... is your piano a guy?”

“You’ve gendered a piano?”

“I name all my pianos. It depends on their sound. But ... maybe Jonghyun. Girl or guy, right?”

Jaejoong snorted and stood behind him, hands on his shoulder and then in his hair. He figured that after a kiss, he had permission to touch, so he did, fingers on his neck, through the hair, pulling at a few tangles.

Yoochun played. Jaejoong did not know what, but it was not his soul song. Just music. Fingers trailing through the notes.

And then eight F majors. It was so harsh against the music from before.

Jaejoong gasped out loud and then watched as Yoochun played it again.

“I have a theory,” Yoochun said, playing each note by itself. Each note Jaejoong heard. “About soul songs. They always feel incomplete, not because I haven’t found my soulmate yet, but because it’s only a few notes. It’s the middle of the song. Something came before it, right? Your life, my life, everything before I walked into that paper store. And now there is life after it. These notes just represent that moment. Like a score to our lives. If we were in a movie.”

Jaejoong swallowed. “I like that theory.”

“I don’t know why you can’t hear it though,” Yoochun said, and then slid over. “Come sit. I’ll play it for you.”

“But it’s ... it’s ... not right.”

“It is.”

“What if I’m not ... what if you’re ... what if we aren’t soulmates?”

Yoochun shook his head. “Just sit. I trust you.”

Jaejoong sat and accepted a kiss to his cheek, and then Yoochun’s fingers were over the keys again, playing silly love songs, playing pop songs, playing classical pieces. He was a really good piano player, and Jaejoong sang along to the ones he knew.

“You are so beautiful,” Yoochun said. “Here. Play.”

“Play what?”

“Whatever you hear.”

Jaejoong played eight F majors, and Yoochun laughed. “Not that. Come on. Watch.”

Jaejoong watched him play his soul song. He watched his fingers hit different keys, but they all sounded the same. Jaejoong huffed, but watched again, and then again.

“Maybe you were playing it wrong,” Yoochun said. “Maybe it’s hard to hear when it’s all the same note in your head. I always thought it was so fitting that my soul song sounded like jazz music. It’s my favorite. BB King, Duke Ellington, John Coltrane, Miles Davis, Frank Sinatra; they’re all my influences. So jazz it up. Make it jazzy.”

Jaejoong settled shaking fingers over the area of keys. “I ... I don’t know how to do that.”

“Shut your eyes,” Yoochun whispered, arms around his waist and chin on Jaejoong’s shoulder. “Shut your eyes and just play it. You can feel it. Even if you can’t hear it, you can feel it.”

Jaejoong shut his eyes. His fingers fumbled on the keys. They didn’t sound like F majors, but he tried again and then again. Yoochun’s hand slipped under his shirt again, warm on his skin. His breath was soft on Jaejoong’s ear.

Jaejoong had no idea how long he played those notes over and over, until his fingers knew what his heart had known all along, and then just as suddenly, he was playing F majors. Over and over. It startled him, but not enough to stop.

“There we go,” Yoochun whispered.

Finding your soulmate wasn’t supposed to require work. Or heartbreak. It wasn’t supposed to be difficult. A soul song bled through you, it set a pace to everything else you did. And when you found the person that walked to the same beat, it was supposed to be easy. It wasn’t supposed to be so hard.

“Maybe if you play it enough, you’ll hear it,” Yoochun said.

“I’m sorry,” Jaejoong said and stopped playing. “This ... this is cheating. You’re not supposed to teach me how to play your soul song.”

Yoochun smiled and turned Jaejoong’s face to his. He was crying and Jaejoong lifted a hand to wipe at his tears. “Maybe a little. Maybe not. What kind of soulmate would I be if I wasn’t willing to work harder for something that you were not able to do? It’s a partnership, you know? F majors?”

Jaejoong nodded and played it again, eyes on Yoochun. F majors in his soul. Yoochun smiled and leaned forward for another kiss.

Jaejoong’s phone rang in the moment, jerking them both apart.

“Fuck, I’m late for work,” Jaejoong said.

Yoochun smiled and nodded. “I’ll walk with you. I have today off. After your shift, can I take you dinner?”

Jaejoong flushed and stood up. “Yeah, okay.”

Yoochun stayed at the piano, playing F majors over and over again, and for the first time, the notes weren’t a painful reminder of what he was missing.

♪ ♫ ♪ ♫ ♪

Jaejoong introduced Yoochun to Yoona, and said, “When he plays, all I hear is F majors.”

Her eyes went wide in understanding, and then she squealed and hugged him, and then hugged Yoochun, and then she was on the phone calling first Minho, her soulmate, and then Taemin to tell them the good news.

Afterwards, she quite firmly kicked them both out of the store and told Jaejoong that she did not want to see his face in her store until his shift on Monday morning, effectively giving him the weekend off.

Yoochun laughed on the sidewalk and said, “Okay, so instead of dinner, how about breakfast?”

Jaejoong smiled and nodded. “Sounds good.”

Yoochun held out his hand, and Jaejoong took it, their fingers and hands joining almost effortlessly. A far cry from the fight of Jaejoong’s soul. But the despair was gone. Not completely, because he felt like any moment he might lose Yoochun to someone who heard the same notes as he.

Hope. Definitely hope. Again.

It was a strange feeling.

“Should we go to a restaurant,” Yoochun asked, “or the market and eat something fried and covered in sugar?”

Jaejoong chuckled. “Well, you’re my soulmate. You should know the answer to that question.”

Yoochun hummed and said, “The market it is. Come on. There’s an older lady that sells berry-filled donuts that are almost orgasmic.”

♪ ♫ ♪ ♫ ♪

They spent too many hours at the market, well, too many hours if either of them had anything else to do. They discovered a similar taste in not just music but also movies, books, clothes, and food. At the market, Jaejoong bought food for dinner. And Yoochun bought him flowers, almost more than the two of them could carry, just because Jaejoong had said that he liked flowers. It wasn’t a lie, or a coincidence that Yoochun picked out tiger lilies and gerbera daisies, the two flowers most prominently tattooed on his back.

Jaejoong had two vases in his house, and they used cups and glasses for the rest of the flowers. A lone rose ended up living in a beer bottle that Jaejoong salvaged from his recycling bin. Yoochun set it on top of Jaejoong’s piano before sitting on the bench and playing.

Jaejoong laughed and asked, “Are you capable of not playing?”

Yoochun stared at him, aghast and said, “How dare you! Just for that, I demand that you sit and play with me.”

Jaejoong had no problems doing that. He sat down, put an arm loosely around his middle. He shut his eyes and listened to him play. Classical music. An opera maybe.

“You know, I have a theory.”

“Another one?” Jaejoong said and pushed him with his shoulder.

Yoochun chuckled. “There’s a humpback whale, that swims alone. Whales are social creatures, and they travel in pods. Scientists didn’t know why this whale was alone, and then they figured it out. Her whale song is different. She calls for her family, but they don’t hear her because it’s on a different register. Maybe that’s what happened with you.”

“But you found me.”

“Not because of your song. I couldn’t sleep that night, the first time I saw you. You were just playing me, toying with my emotions. But I knew that wasn’t true. It was just ... the anguish in your face. The pain. That is hard to fake. I’ve been played before, so I was cautious.”

“What happened?” Jaejoong asked, plopping his head on Yoochun’s shoulder while the other continued to tinker on the piano.

“My family moved to America when I was a teenager. I was seventeen the first time I heard my soul song. I was excited and started playing it on every piano I could. There are warnings near the pianos in America, ones that say to be careful of swindlers. And I got swindled. I had no idea that this man had been stalking me, following me, hearing me play for four months. He came to me, claiming I was his soulmate, and when he played the song, it wasn’t quite perfect, but close enough. He used me, for my body, my youth, my money.”

“I’m so sorry,” Jaejoong said. “You shouldn’t have had to go through that.”

Yoochun smiled. “Maybe not. I was naive. My parents called the police on him. He was almost forty. He was arrested and charged with Soulmate Manipulation and sexual exploitation of a minor. I’m sure he’s still in prison. But it’s one of the reasons I’m so certain about this, about you, even if you can’t hear my song. You don’t just make my soul sing, Jaejoong, you make my heart beat, my skin tingle, and every single part of me wants to smile and laugh when I’m near you.”

Jaejoong’s heart tightened in his chest. He wanted to reply with something just as romantic, but did not know how. Instead, he pressed a long kiss to Yoochun’s cheek and listened to Yoochun play.

“So America,” Jaejoong said after a while.

Yoochun hummed, the notes suddenly changing. “My father’s company transferred him there. He died when I was only twenty-two.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, my mother is being strong though. His company asked us if we wanted to stay in America, but she wanted to be close to her family, so we moved back.”

“Are you an only child?”

“No, I have a younger brother. He’s twenty-one now. He found his soulmate right when we got back to Korea, when he was barely nineteen.”

“Lucky.”

“Yeah. I was jealous for a long time, but now I know why I hadn’t found my soulmate yet. I wasn’t looking hard enough for you. Or listening hard enough.”

“Thank you for taking a chance.”

Yoochun kissed his forehead. “What about you? Your family?”

Jaejoong pulled away, ducking his head. “I ... I don’t know my parents. I was adopted when I was really little. My father and mother gave me up. I don’t know why. I have eight sisters and they all found their soulmates really young, some have children and I am, well, I’m ... I don’t know ... well, the youngest. Sort of forgotten and insignificant, but ...”

Yoochun stopped playing and pulled his face around and kissed him. “You are not insignificant. Not to me. Not to Yoona. Not to Taemin, even. He looks up to you. Stop that right now. I want you to smile. Always smile.”

Jaejoong tried, eyes welling with tears again.

“Come on, let’s eat dinner, and snuggle on your bed and watch stupid movies.”

Jaejoong laughed. “Sounds perfect.”

♪ ♫ ♪ ♫ ♪

“Do you want to stay?” Jaejoong asked as the credits of a silly love movie played on his laptop screen. It was their third movie, and it was nearing one in the morning.

“I shouldn’t.”

“You should.”

Yoochun frowned at him.

Jaejoong smiled. “I know you’re not taking advantage of me. It’s late. I want you to stay. If you aren’t here in the morning, I’m going to think I dreamed it all.”

Yoochun’s face softened and he smiled. “Okay. Let me go make a phone call. I live with my brother and his soulmate, I don’t want them to worry, especially after it took him so long to talk me into coming back for you.”

“So I owe your brother already?”

Yoochun laughed. “Not my brother. His soulmate. Yunho. My brother is very much against this because of what happened to me before.”

Jaejoong nodded. While Yoochun made his phone call, Jaejoong went to the bathroom to get ready for bed. He made sure to grab shorts and a tanktop to change into. It had been a very long, very emotional day. He stopped in shock when he came out of the bathroom and found himself staring at skin. A lot of skin.

Yoochun had stripped down. Just in boxers, sitting on the edge of his bed. He was skinny, but strong enough. Sexy. He had tattoos too. But it was his smile that had Jaejoong reeling. Such happiness. He hoped he looked the same.

“I’m going to assume that we’re sharing the bed,” Yoochun said.

Jaejoong nodded. He didn’t have a couch or anything else, and if he was honest with himself, he wanted Yoochun in bed with him. And it was so easy, so easy to climb in the bed with him, so easy to curl up against his bare chest. So easy to press a kiss to his collarbone.

Natural. Like he had done it so many times before.

“Good night, soulmate of mine,” Yoochun whispered and hummed eight F majors.

Jaejoong smiled and said, “Good night.”

Natural, to fall asleep pressed against his warm skin, listening to his heart beat.

When he woke up to the sunlight streaming from his windows, he groaned and moved.

“Hold still,” Yoochun said.

Jaejoong sat up with a shout, and then sighed in relief when he caught sight of Yoochun, kneeling on the bed. He had a pen in his hand.

“You’re ruining it,” Yoochun said with a pout and pushed him back to the bed by his shoulder. He pushed up his tank top.

Jaejoong had no idea what, but he went back and sighed again. It had not been a dream. He had found his soulmate. He smiled at the ceiling.

His stomach jerked at the soft touch to his skin and he glanced down. Yoochun was writing notes on his tattoo. In pen.

“What--”

“Sh. Writing.”

The tattoo was only so long though, and he ran out of space and drew another staff underneath it. He bit his lip, concentrating. The touches of pen to skin were deliberate and careful. He hummed the melody as he went, and then smiled. Jaejoong tried not to move, but then everything started itching.

And Yoochun was pressed to his crotch. Every breath pushing against him. Every small movement teasing him, and Jaejoong bit his lip against a moan, fighting the urge to frot up against him. It’d been a very long time since he’d felt the stirrings of lust, and he tried to keep breathing as everything swam around him.

And Yoochun smiled up at him. “Give me five more minutes.”

Jaejoong looked at the ceiling. He would not be able to last five minutes without jumping him. He did his best to hold his breath.

“Okay. Don’t shower yet. Not until I can get it on paper.”

“Take a picture.”

“Of your body? Okay.” He held out his phone and snapped a picture of Jaejoong’s stomach. And then his finger was back, trialing over the notes he’d written. He hummed the melody, a smile on his face.

Jaejoong laughed and shoved his hand away. “That tickles. What the hell?”

“Woke up with music in my head. It happens a lot. I didn’t have paper, but I remembered a perfect spot where I could write.” He dragged his fingers over it and then leaned over him for a short kiss.

“I always meant to have the soul song tattooed there,” Jaejoong said, “as soon as I knew what it was.”

Yoochun shook his head and kissed him again, a little longer, a little sweeter. “Don’t. If you tattoo notes on it, then I can’t use it as a writing pad.”

Jaejoong flushed. “Ass.”

“Already?”

“That was an insult, not an offer.”

“I was being optimistic.”

Jaejoong grinned and shook his head. “I haven’t ... I’ve never ... I didn’t know ...”

Yoochun smiled, hand soft on his cheek. “It’s okay. Whenever you’re ready. You let me know and I will rock your world.”

“So humble.”

Yoochun laughed and kissed him. “Come on. We have all day to spend together, and then I want to take you to my work and show off.”


	3. Dissonance

Yoochun worked at a very high-end gentleman’s club that catered to male/male soulmates. It was run by Kim Junsu, one of Yoochun’s friends from his childhood, and his soulmate Shim Changmin. The two of them had risked everything to open the club, despite the backlash they received for discriminating against other soulmate pairings, but fortunately for them, it worked.

Yoochun played the piano and sang, sometimes with Junsu, sometimes with a woman named Tiffany.

It had been very hard parting ways at five. But with lips pressed together, arms around each other, Yoochun had whispered promises of seeing him soon. So soon.

“After a lifetime without you, I can wait a few more hours,” Jaejoong had said.

“And now, with having you, every hour feels like a lifetime.”

“Wow. That was equal parts sweet and equal parts disgusting.”

Yoochun laughed and held him for just a little longer, until Junsu was calling him and demanding to know where he was and why he was not at the club practicing.

Yoochun’s eyes sparkled when he said, “Sorry. I’m with my soulmate.” He hung up on Junsu’s excited squeals and kissed Jaejoong again.

“You didn’t tell him?” Jaejoong asked.

Yoochun shook his head. “Just my brother and his soulmate. Oh, and my mom. Be prepared to be pounced on. Junsu is a little ... enthusiastic about everything. And well, Changmin’s a pessimistic, realistic, sarcastic bitch. They work well together.”

It took a few more minutes before Yoochun peeled himself away and headed down the street. Jaejoong thought of watching him walk away, but was too afraid of chasing after him like a lovesick fool, so he went upstairs, breath a little short.

He was at the top of the stairs when his phone buzzed with a text. He took it out and smiled at the screen.

_SoulSong: Miss you already_

Jaejoong sent back a flurry of hearts and music notes.

♪ ♫ ♪ ♫ ♪

After eight, Jaejoong called a cab to take him to Club Xia. It was in the middle of Gangnam, but still discreet enough to be inconspicuous to those who did not know what it was.

Jaejoong had been very careful with his outfit. Yoochun had dressed up a bit to go to work two days before, so Jaejoong made sure he was classy enough to be at a high-end club. He wore his favorite outfit: black slacks with thin teal pinstripe, a teal button down with a skinny black tie, and a black sport coat, complete with a teal pocket square. Maybe a little too fancy, but he wanted to impress, not just Yoochun, but Yoochun’s best friends. He wore diamonds in his ears and thin silver chains on his neck and wrists. Bulky rings. And then he dressed up his face. Smokey eyes, lip gloss, a tiniest touch of teal shadow.

He was carded at the door by a tall attractive piece of chocolate whose nametag said “Siwon,” and then he smiled after looking at his ID and widely and said, “Yoochun-hyung said you’d be by. Wow. You look amazing. Usually I have to turn newcomers away because they aren’t dressed appropriately. Welcome to Club Xia. Go straight to the bar and Changminnie will get you a drink.”

Jaejoong said thank you and bowed. When he stepped into the main room of the club, he froze for a moment, listening to the familiar jazzy lilt of a piano. He found the instrument and Yoochun behind it and smiled. His heart soared. It’d just been a day, but he could already see his life without the pain that had been stuck to his heart before Yoochun. Maybe not now, but soon. Yoochun was wearing all black today, except the tie in his hair which was bright red. He managed to tear his eyes away from his soulmate.

The decor was muted, black and grays with splashes of color here and there. The piano was not quite in the middle of the room, but close, and there was a dance floor nearby. The wait staff wore tight black shorts, white crop vests that showed off their arms and stomachs, and colored bowties. Everything was really sexy.

Including the man behind the bar who was tall and well-built. He was wearing tight, dark blue jeans that showed off his long legs and a billowy white shirt, the top few buttons open. He had short, black hair, and really pretty eyes, a wide smile that turned to a sexy smirk for the man who he was chatting with while he made a drink. A quick glance around showed that the bartender was the only one in jeans.

Jaejoong went to the bar, and the tall man behind the bar caught his gaze and his eyes widened, and then he smiled, shouting for someone.

“Jaejoong-shi,” the man said. “Give me two seconds. What do you want to drink?”

Jaejoong swallowed and said, “Um, soju, for now.”

The man smiled. Before the man finished the drink he was making, another man came out of a door behind the bar. He was handsome, but in a cute way. The cut of his suit around his compact, strong body was the handsome part. The bright smile, colorful earrings, and bright pink hair was the cute part. He saw Jaejoong and immediately lunged over the bar. Lunged. Put his hands on the countertop and just jumped over it. And then Jaejoong was hugged, a loud squeal of happiness in his ear.

“Hi, Jaejoong-shi. Wow. Yoochunnie was right. You’re gorgeous. Damn. But fuck all, worth the wait, I’d say.”

“Ignore him,” the bartender said and put a bottle of soju on a coaster in front of Jaejoong. “Babe, at least introduce yourself before you freak him out.”

“Why do I love you?”

“My legs, my body, my dick, my--”

“Your humility.”

The man snorted.

“Sorry, Jaejoong-shi. I’m Kim Junsu, and this gorgeous thing is my soulmate, Shim Changmin.”

Jaejoong sort of bowed from his stool and muttered, “It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s so good to meet you,” Junsu said and hugged him. “Yoochunnie is so lucky to have found you. And you’re gorgeous. He’s so lucky you’re gorgeous. Fuck, you’re absolutely sinfully gorgeous.”

Eight F majors came from the piano, and Jaejoong turned around quickly. Yoochun was smiling at him. He played them again, and then said into the microphone, “We don’t normally do this actually, it’s against the rules, but this”--He played it again--”is my soul song.”

The men in the audience tittered in interest.

“If you look over at the bar, the dashingly attractive man being mauled by the owner of this club is my soulmate, who I found two days ago.”

The men cheered, shouting congratulations, and Yoochun smiled.

“Thank you. I’m going to get off the piano for a little while and go rescue him from Junsu-yah’s wandering hands. While I’m gone, you’re welcome to come up and play your soul song, just in case.”

Yoochun flung his fingers up the keys to the highest notes in a rolling flourish, and then he stood up and headed over to them.

Jaejoong swallowed. Yoochun was amazing. He looked so good in a suit, the bowtie loose, the white shirt disheveled. His jacket was off a moment later, flung over his arm, and then the bar. He squeezed himself between Jaejoong and Junsu with a smile, cupped Jaejoong’s cheeks and kissed him deeply.

Jaejoong’s hands fluttered at his elbows and then settled around his waist. He was vaguely aware of Junsu crowing at them.

“Hi, beautiful,” Yoochun said against his lips. “You look amazing.”

Jaejoong’s cheeks flushed. “Hi. Thanks.”

“Sorry about Junsu. I told you he’s a little overeager.”

“Especially in bed,” Changmin said.

Jaejoong flushed.

“Changminnie, give us a shot to celebrate. You too, Junsu!”

Junsu made a face, but like a good friend, took a shot of something strong when it was dropped in front of him.

Yoochun signaled for another one, and then kissed Jaejoong again. “Such a perfect, sweet chaser.”

Jaejoong blushed and buried his face in Yoochun’s shoulder.

“So how did you two meet?” Changmin said.

Jaejoong looked down and bit his lip. He did not want to tell these two this story. “He-he came into where I work.”

“He works at a stationery store called ‘Paper Notes’,” Yoochun added, “and I went in hoping he had music sheets.”

“And ...” Changmin prompted. “The soul song. How did that happen? You don’t usually just play it. I think before tonight, I’d only heard it twice.”

Yoochun took a deep breath. “You can’t judge, either of you. Jaejoong is my soulmate and nothing anyone thinks can convince me otherwise. You don’t know how it feels, how ... how he feels to me.”

“Chunnie, woah,” Junsu said, holding his hands up. “We can see how you feel about him.”

“Why would we think otherwise?” Changmin asked.

Jaejoong turned his head away and bit his lip.

“Jaejoong can’t hear our soul song.”

His chest tightened at Yoochun’s use of “our” instead of “my.” But not in a good way. He didn’t hear it. It wasn’t his soul song. Not really.

“What?” Changmin said after a few moments of silence. “What do you mean?”

“He can’t hear it,” Yoochun said. “All he hears are F majors.”

“But that means...” Junsu narrowed his eyes at Jaejoong. “So you aren’t his soulmate.”

“He is,” Yoochun said, arms tightening around Jaejoong. “He can hear music. Everything. He knows how to play the piano, and he knows how to sing. But these eight notes just sound like F majors to him. That’s how he knew. When I sing them or play them, hell when I wrote them down on a piece of a paper, all he sees and hears are F majors.”

“Wait. You wrote down your soul song?” Changmin said. “Are you stupid?”

Yoochun shook his head. “Shut up. You weren’t there. You didn’t see the pain ...”

“It’s okay,” Jaejoong suddenly whispered. “I’m ... I’m used to this. It’s ...”

“No,” Yoochun said and spun Jaejoong around on the stool. “You are my soulmate. I know you are.”

Jaejoong buried his face in Yoochun’s shoulder and took a few deep breaths to calm himself down.

“You weren’t there,” Yoochun said softly. “You did not see the pain in his face. The heartbreak when I told him that the notes I was singing weren’t F majors. He was so sure, so convinced that I was his soulmate, that I was singing F majors because that’s what he hears in his soul. It’s what he hears in his heart.”

“But it’s supposed to be--”

“I know how it’s supposed to go,” Yoochun said firmly, “but we’re different. It’s not that strange. My soul song is in F major.”

“We’re just worried about you,” Changmin said. “But if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.” He pulled away and touched Jaejoong’s cheeks. “Are you sure, my soulmate?”

Jaejoong smiled, throat tightening again. He nodded, even as doubt danced upon his heart.

“Good.”

A trickle of bright notes came from the piano, quick and staccato, a bit higher than normal, and then there was a crash. Immediately, Junsu stood, his smile turning a frown, and Jaejoong turned toward the noise. Everything in the club was quiet.

“No way,” Changmin muttered.

There was a man at the piano, business suit a bit disheveled, dark hair cut short on his head. His mouth was open, eyes wide in surprise.

One of the waiters stood almost as still, eyes just as wide. The tray of food he’d been carrying was all over the floor, glasses and plates in pieces. But neither noticed. Him especially as he walked through the mess, toward the piano. He was shorter, floppy light brown hair, cute in a way that Jaejoong could tell he was a popular server. His bowtie was bright pink with white polkadots.

“No fucking way,” Changmin said, a little louder.

Yoochun laughed. “I’m really not surprised.”

“What’s going on?” Jaejoong whispered.

Yoochun hugged him with one arm. “The man at the piano is Chanyeol, one of our most frequent customers. The server is Baekhyun. He’s Chanyeol’s favorite. If Baekhyun is here, Chanyeol sits in his section. I think Chanyeol even asked him out once, but Baekhyun doesn’t want to date anyone that isn’t his soulmate. This is the only place they are together where there is a piano, and no one is allowed to use it to find their soulmate.”

“For this reason,” Changmin said. “Fucking hell, Baekhyun better clean that up.”

“I think he’s doing something a little more important,” Junsu said and smacked his soulmate’s arm.

Sure enough, Baekhyun sat at the piano. Fell onto the bench, hands hitting a harsh set of keys. He was shaking. Chanyeol swallowed deeply. Baekhyun’s eyes fluttered shut and his fingers twisted through a few missteps. Chanyeol touched his shoulder, said something to him, and Baekhyun took a deep breath, and then played their soul song, a perfect match to what Chanyeol had played.

The other men in the audience cheered, and Baekhyun leaned against Chanyeol and then they were kissing.

“Fucking hell,” Changmin said, and then louder, he said, “Goddamnit, Park Yoochun, now we’re out one server.”

The others in the room laughed.

Junsu grinned at him. “Guess that means you’re going to put on a short pair of shorts and bowtie, darling.”

“You fucking wish.” He bounded over the bar and headed toward the happy couple.

Junsu smiled. “Such a great idea, Yoochunnie. I know Changmin doesn’t want this place to be a soulmate searching point, but I’ve been trying to get Baekhyun to go out with Chanyeol for more than a year now. You better get back to the piano before there’s a mass of soulmates finding each other in my club.”

Yoochun smiled at Jaejoong. “You should come and play the piano with me. Actually, Junsu-yah should hire you because you’re such a good piano player and a singer. Come and sing with me please. Let the men hear how angelic and pure your voice is.”

“I would hire you,” Junsu said, chuckling, “because being deemed as a good piano player by Yoochun is high praise, but he also said you’re a good blinker. His exact words were, ‘Everyone blinks, but the way he does it is so delicate, so’--”

Yoochun covered Junsu’s hand with his mouth, eyes shining. “Ignore him. Want to come play with me?”

Jaejoong looked out over the crowds and ducked his head. “M-maybe next time. There ... there are a lot of people here.”

Yoochun’s eyes softened and he nodded. “Okay. Go sit at a table. Order some food. I’ll come and sit with you on my next break.”

Jaejoong grinned and nodded.

“Go on,” Changmin said. “I’ll send Kibum over with everything you want.”

“Just not Yoochun, right now,” Junsu added with a wink.

Slightly embarrassed, Jaejoong let Yoochun lead him to a table near the piano. He was very aware of the eyes on them as Yoochun leaned down and kissed him, a lingering kiss, with a swipe of his tongue.

“I’m so happy, beautiful,” Yoochun said and touched his cheek. “So happy that I found you.”

“Me, too,” Jaejoong said.

Yoochun pecked his lips and then went back to the piano. Someone was on it, playing their soul song, and Yoochun waited with a smile on his face until he had finished.

“Sorry about the interruption,” he said, fingers playing eight F majors again, “and I’m really sorry that all I can seem to play today are happy love songs. If you have any requests, let me know. For now, please indulge me while I play a bit of my favorite jazz.”

Jaejoong watched Changmin supervising the new soulmate couple cleaning up the mess of glass and food. Junsu was there a moment, hands on his hips. They had a short discussion, and then Junsu pulled at Baekhyun first and then Chanyeol, tugging them toward the bar. Changmin rolled his eyes, and then a moment later, there was a guy in all black, probably a dishwasher from the back, cleaning the mess on the floor, and the new soulmate couple were gone.

Jaejoong sighed and rubbed his face with his hands.

That was how you were supposed to find your soulmate.

“What do you want to eat, Jaejoong-shi?” someone asked.

Jaejoong looked up and right into the cute face of one of the waiters. He was skinny, but certainly handsome. His black hair was streaked with greens and blues and purples. He had a piercing in his lip and one his eyebrow. The small vest showed off his stomach and the a pink jewel sparkled at Jaejoong from his navel. His bowtie was neon green. The little black tag on his vest said, “Key.”

“Sorry, I don’t even know what you guys serve here,” Jaejoong said, reaching for the small menu that was centered on the table.

“Take a look at it. I think you need another shot. I’ll be right back with a drink.” He winked, and Jaejoong smiled.

The only word Jaejoong had for the food was elegant. There were very few options, but a sentence at the bottom of the menu declared everything fresh that day, bought from the market or the fisherman, and that the menu always changed. He ended up ordering a halibut steak with steamed vegetables all drizzled with a lemon cream sauce and garnished with candied slivered almonds. The plate that Junsu brought out to him was gorgeous, presented so well that Jaejoong did not want to eat it and ruin the masterpiece.

“Seems a little classy,” Jaejoong said, snagging a garden pea with his chopsticks.

Junsu laughed. “When it came to the food, Changmin would not allow anything to be prepared here but the best. He made me order a master chef. That man’s salary almost bankrupts us.”

Considering how many men were in the club, Jaejoong highly doubted the two owners were close to bankruptcy.

A few minutes later, a few men came to say hello to Jaejoong and introduce themselves. They were the guitarist and bassist of the band that played on nights when Yoochun did not work. And then a few patrons come over, and then each server made their way to his table during the night. They congratulated Jaejoong on meeting Yoochun, finding his soulmate. Yoochun had so many friends at the club, so many people that spoke kindly to him and were so excited that Yoochun was happy.

But they did not know. They didn’t know that Yoochun had taught him to play their soul song. They did not meet the way Chanyeol and Baekhyun just did. Everything about their soulmateship would be considered fake by everyone if they knew it not had gone the proper way. The next time Jaejoong saw the two of them, Baekhyun was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, and Chanyeol in his nice suit had him pulled close, and they were on the dance floor, moving to the music that Yoochun played. Baekhyun was a lot shorter than him, but the two of them fit perfectly against each other, and both of them were smiling. Maybe even crying.

Jaejoong tried not to watch them.

Each person that came wanted a shot with him, and Jaejoong had no problem at all trying to quiet the dissonant voice in his head. The one that said Yoochun was not really his. The one that said Jaejoong could not hear the same soul song that Yoochun heard.

He managed to laugh and smile with everyone else, but only because of the alcohol. But his heart was aching, every time he looked over at the piano. Every time Yoochun smiled at him. He ate too many desserts, just as decadent as the main course, and then had too many bottles of soju.

In a moment of clarity, he realized he was propped up against Yoochun’s body, head on his shoulder, and he wound his arms around Yoochun’s waist, burying his face into the warmth of his neck.

Yoochun’s laughter trickled over his skin, the adoration bled into his soul.

“You okay?”

“Drunk,” Jaejoong managed.

“No kidding. Come home with me? I’ll take care of you.”

Jaejoong frowned. He wanted to ask why, he wanted to scream and shout and demand to know why Yoochun thought they were soulmates when he couldn’t even hear his soul song. Instead he said, “No mate, no song. Not you.”

And hands were on his face, tilting his head up. Yoochun’s concerned face swam in front of him. “What are you talking about?”

Jaejoong did not know. He shook his head. The movement made the world spin.

A firm arm went around his waist, a soft voice said, “I got you, soulmate of mine. I’ve got you.”


	4. Cross Rhythm

Jaejoong moaned, eyes refusing to open, and then fluttering and shutting tightly at the dim light around him. God, he’d been a little too drunk. He wondered what he’d said to Yoochun. The image of his concerned face swam through the rest of whatever went on last night.

The club. The piano. The soulmates. Chanyeol and Baekhyun. The proper soulmates. His chest tightened as he remembered. Why didn’t alcohol actually do what it was supposed to and make you forget? The two of them had been smiling, laughing, dancing, looking at each other with such adoration. Nothing like his meeting with Yoochun. No pain. No heartache.

Jaejoong vaguely remembered Yoochun washing his skin, making him drink water, kisses and touches, and his deep voice calling Jaejoong a cute drunk. He worried a little and he shouldn’t have. Yoochun took care of him, slipped off his clothes and put him to bed with a kiss and a smile. The most beautiful smile in the world.

He shifted, noting a slight headache and a dry mouth. And soft touches on his stomach.

“Are you composing on me again?” he grumbled.

Yoochun chuckled. “Nope. Just touching. You have a sexy body.”

Jaejoong grunted and spun to his side, away from Yoochun, and curled up.

Warmth spread over his side, lips touched his shoulder. “Do you want to wake up yet?”

“No.”

Yoochun tightened his arm around Jaejoong’s waist. “Okay, but I’m in here running interference. There’s only so long I can distract my brother and his soulmate before they come barging in here, demanding to meet you.”

Jaejoong moaned and buried his head in the pillow. Yoochun’s bed was much softer than Jaejoong’s, and he had lots of pillows.

“Why don’t you get up and shower, and I’ll have coffee waiting for you as soon as you want it?”

“Yeah, okay. Fine.” Jaejoong huffed. “Is this just a ploy to get me to cook breakfast?”

Yoochun laughed, and the sound was not harsh on his ears, nor did it make his sore head pound. It was such a lovely noise, and Jaejoong found himself smiling.

“It is not, but I will not say no to breakfast.”

“Ass.”

“Insult?”

“Yes.”

Yoochun pouted.

With a laugh, Jaejoong pulled his mouth down to his for a kiss. But Yoochun made a face and said, “Use my toothbrush too, if you want.”

Jaejoong put his hand on Yoochun’s cheek and pushed him away.

Yoochun fought back, tackled him to the bed, and kissed his neck instead of his mouth, and Jaejoong moaned, going slack under him, but arms tight around his shoulders.

“Ass?” Yoochun asked, an eyebrow lifted.

Jaejoong groaned and toppled him off the bed.

Laughing, Yoochun reached up touched his cheek and said, “It’s so good to have you, soulmate of mine.”

Jaejoong’s throat tightened and he nodded. “You have no idea.”

“I have some. Soon, that sadness in your eyes will go away. As soon as you realize that you’ve found me, that I’m sticking around, that I won’t go away.”

Jaejoong growled and pulled the pillow over his face to hide his tears. “Go away.”

Fingers danced down the flowers tattooed on his back. He chuckled. “See you soon.”

Jaejoong lay in the bed for a little longer, just long enough to get his emotions under control. He sat up carefully, thankful that his head was not too sore. He’d had a lot to drink, but he could definitely hold his alcohol. He glanced around the room, curious as to his new soulmate.

It was really clean. Like spotless clean, and Jaejoong winced a little. Too clean? Maybe Yoochun had straightened up before he woke up. Something told him though that his new soulmate was a neat freak.

He had a dresser and a small bookcase. And a piano. Of course he had a piano. It was an electric one, connected to a few monitors and other pieces of recording equipment. All neat and organized. Free of dust, cords all wrapped in an organized way. There was a second desk that was not as neat as everything else. Strewed with papers and pencils, two sets of headphones, a laptop. An ashtray. Empty, but there.

Arching over everything was a bouquet of flowers. Mostly pink roses, scattered with yellow carnations. Jaejoong went there first and smiled as he smelled them. A little note card had his name on it. He flipped it over.

_Beautiful Soulmate - I’ve been up for hours and have wanted to wake you so badly. So instead, I went to the market. There are donuts! - Hopefully Yours, Park Yoochun_

Jaejoong scrubbed at his eyes, at the tears in them, and muttered, “Jerk, stupid, loving, caring, perfect jerk.” He smiled.

There were two doors in the room, one led to a small walk-in closet, and the other led to a bathroom. The bathroom was spotless. Just as clean as everything else. Jaejoong winced and made a mental note to try to be neater. A blue towel sat upon the counter, and a brand new toothbrush, in its packaging. Jaejoong huffed again. But not in irritation at Yoochun. Just at himself for being so emotional because Yoochun was so attentive.

He took a quick shower, thankful that the last few lingering effects of his night were washed away as well as the taste in his mouth. The notes that Yoochun had drawn on his stomach had faded. He looked at them in the mirror and tried to hum them but they were backwards. With the towel around his waist, he went back into the room and wondered if Yoochun would mind if he borrowed some sweats. He wasn’t really sure about wearing Yoochun’s clothes, but he didn’t want to wear his slacks. He just wanted to relax a little.

He needn’t have worried. Yoochun had slipped into the room while he was in the shower and had laid out an outfit for him on his bed, complete with another note that said, “Normally, I’d tell you to stay naked, but my brother is home. These should fit you!” There were music notes drawn all over the card.

Jaejoong swallowed at the naked part. Yoochun kept making sexual comments. But they’d only known each other for two days. Maybe three if you count that first day at the shop.

Maybe a lifetime. Sure felt like a lifetime. Maybe that was the secret to soulmates.

Jaejoong slipped on the jeans, soft denim, well-worn, and the blue T-shirt. It wasn’t his style, but Yoochun was right and they fit him well. He’d still feel mostly naked until he had accessories on him, but he was here to relax, not impress. He ran the towel over his head one more time, caught himself from just tossing it on the floor, and went back to the bathroom to hang it over the shower rod.

It took a few more minutes, a few more pep talks, before he was able to open the bedroom door and find his way to the sound of voices and laughter coming from the kitchen.

The first person he saw was not his soulmate, but someone that looked so much like his soulmate that Jaejoong stopped in the kitchen doorway in surprise. Yoochun had said his brother was younger, not that they were twins. It was strangely creepy how much they looked alike but how obviously different they were. Both tall, lanky, broad shoulders, and long hair. Yoochun’s face was wider, his brother’s nose a little sharper.

And then he saw Yoochun, and everything else went away, and he smiled, accepting arms around his waist and a soft kiss to his lips.

“Much better,” Yoochun murmured and then kissed him a little deeper, making Jaejoong’s head spin a bit.

“All right, all right, come on.”

Yoochun pulled away and smiled. “Feeling better?”

“Maybe after another kiss,” Jaejoong said.

Yoochun leaned in to do just that, and then jerked away, face wincing in pain. His brother had him by the ponytail, yanking harshly. “Enough.”

Yoochun swung out and smacked his brother in the side, which had the other letting go of his hair. “Fucking ow, Yoohwannie.”

“Leave him alone, Yoohwan,” someone else said.

Jaejoong turned to the other man in the room who was sipping on a mug. He was gorgeous, in the way that models and movie stars were attractive. Perfect brown hair, perfect smile, perfect small face. Jaejoong blushed and stammered a greeting.

“It is really good to meet you,” he said. “I’m Jung Yunho.”

And while his face was welcoming, Yoohwan’s was not. He had his arms crossed, eyes narrowed.

“Yoohwan, leave him alone,” Yoochun said immediately. “Here, Jaejoong-ah, sit down. I’ll get you coffee. Something tells me you like it sweet.”

Jaejoong thought of something cute to say and then decided not to, and then decided, why the hell not? Yoochun had been showering him with little pet names and cute little sayings for three days. “You know that about me because I like you so much and you’re so sweet, right?”

Yoochun laughed and said, “Actually, there’s no other way for you to be so sweet without eating and drinking whatever you can that is full of sugar.”

Jaejoong fought back a blush, and Yoohwan rolled his eyes, and Jaejoong looked at the table.

“Speaking of sweet, here,” Yunho said and pushed over the box of donuts. “Yoochun made us save you one.”

Jaejoong smiled. “Thank you.”

Yoochun set the coffee in front of him and then pulled a chair close and sat next to him, hand on his leg.

Yunho laughed. “Give him some space, Yoochun-ah. You don’t need to be staring at him so much. He’s going to think you’re weird.”

“But I have to,” Yoochun said. “He’s too beautiful not to stare at.”

Jaejoong felt some of the berry filling drip onto his palm and he immediately shoved it against Yoochun’s cheek. “Go away.”

“Ew, Joongie. Gross.”

“If you lean over and lick that off his face, I’m going to kick him out of my apartment,” Yoohwan said.

Yoochun laughed and used a napkin to wipe it away.

“So you’re with my brother for his money,” Yoohwan said.

Yoochun’s smile fell and he glared at his brother.

Yunho said his name sharply.

“Well,” he said, throwing his hands in the air, “even you admitted that he can’t hear your soul song, what do you expect me to think!”

“Money?” Jaejoong said.

It was quiet, and then Yoochun said, voice low and more serious than Jaejoong had heard it, “Jaejoong doesn’t know anything about my money, dongsaeng. And I told you, he doesn’t hear my song, but he hears his. F majors. All of them. You know as well as I do that my soul song is not F majors, but when I sing it, he hears F majors.”

“I know as well as you do that you’d believe anything just to have a soulmate.”

Silence settled again, and Jaejoong put his hand on Yoochun’s shoulder. His face had fallen in anguish, and Yoohwan mumbled an apology.

“That’s it,” Yunho said and stood up. “We’re going out. Yoochun-ah, Jaejoong-shi, the place is yours. We’ll be back after this ass stops being an ass.”

“I just don’t want you to get hurt anymore,” Yoohwan said, fighting against the hold Yunho had on his arm.

Yoochun nodded. “I know, and I appreciate that, but I don’t want Jaejoong to get hurt anymore either. He’s lived his entire life in despair.”

“So he claims.”

Yunho pulled him harder and said, “That’s enough, Yoohwan. Come on.”

“Fine. Just ... fine.”

Jaejoong bit his lip, and they were quiet until the two of them left the apartment, whispering angrily at each other.

“Sorry,” Yoochun said. “He’s ... protective.”

Jaejoong nodded. “I understand. After what happened to you in America.” He bit his lip against more doubts. After another moment of silence, Jaejoong said, “So money?”

Yoochun chuckled. “I’m rich. Well, I’m not really rich, rich but I’m definitely not poor. I’m a musician. I’ve sold songs to entertainment companies and advertising firms. I write songs for pop artists and commercials. Things like that.”

“Oh. Wow. That’s really cool.”

“I hope VIXX wants to sing happy love songs from now on.”

“VIXX, really?”

“Yeah. Every album of theirs has a song of mine on it.”

“That’s pretty awesome.”

“I’ve only really been living with Yoohwan to have enough money for my own place, which I now have, I just haven’t wanted to move out and be alone, but he’s been a bitch the last few days. I’m really sorry about my brother, and Changmin and Junsu last night. They just ... they just don’t see you the way I see you, and it’s going to take some time.”

Jaejoong smiled and leaned against his shoulder. “I know. It’s okay.”

“And I know it’s going to take you some time too.” Yoochun tilted his head up, hands soft on his cheeks. “I know you still have doubts, my love. I know you do, and I know that I cannot erase those doubts in only three days, but please let me. Let me love you. Let me help you. You are my soulmate. I feel that so strongly. Every moment with you reinforces it in my heart and my soul.”

Jaejoong’s throat tightened and he accepted a kiss to his lips and once again found himself crying. Too many tears for something that should have been happy.

“There you go again,” Yoochun said with a soft smile. “So many doubts. I love you. This is us now. This is who we are. Meant for each other. Soulmates. Say it.”

Jaejoong swallowed. “What?”

“Say it. Say it out loud, so you can hear yourself say it, say that we are soulmates. You haven’t yet.”

Jaejoong bit his lip and realized that Yoochun was right. He’d never said that outloud. He swallowed again and whispered, “Soulmates. You’re my soulmate.”

“Only half way, babe,” Yoochun said.

Jaejoong ran his hands through his hair in frustration.

“You don’t think you’re my soulmate,” Yoochun said, “and that hurts my heart. It hurts my soul. Drag me off to jail for saying this, but a soulmate is more than just a song. It’s more than that. After the last three days, how the hell are we such good friends? How the hell do I know what you’re thinking? How the hell do we already know so much about each other? And why the hell does it feel like I’ve spent lifetimes with you instead of just three days? There’s no way we’d be like this if we were not soulmates, and you know it.”

Jaejoong nodded. “I’m so sorry. I--”

“And why the hell do I understand you so well?” Yoochun said, hand on his cheek. “I understand your doubts and why you have them. I understand that you’ve been alone for so long and you’ve had to protect your heart and soul from disappointment and anguish. I want to get rid of that anguish wrapped around your heart. I want to spend the rest of our lives making you smile.”

Jaejoong hugged him tightly, arms around his shoulders, and Yoochun held him just as tightly, arms around his waist. With his eyes shut, he felt Yoochun’s breath on his neck, felt his heartbeat under his skin. It took a few long minutes for the tightness to leave his throat, for the tears to slow enough to actually say anything. And when he did, it was right against Yoochun’s ear, lips on his soft skin, tongue against the piercing in the lobe. “Soulmates,” Jaejoong said, voice deep, harsh, like he’d spent the last few minutes screaming.

Just like his soul was screaming for his soulmate.

“Soulmates,” he said again and cleared his throat.

Yoochun pushed him away, hand on his cheek again, rubbing away the tears.

“Soulmates,” Jaejoong said.

Yoochun nodded. “Soulmates.”

Jaejoong tried to breath, voice breaking as he said, “We are soulmates.” And then he said it again, a little louder.

Yoochun smiled. “We are soulmates.”

“I’m sorry,” Jaejoong said, and hugged him tightly. “I’m sorry. I’m a mess. I can’t even ... This isn’t ...”

Yoochun hushed him. “You’re perfect. You are my soulmate. We are soulmates.”

Jaejoong held him for a little longer and nodded. “We are. You are. I am your soulmate.”

“Baby,” Yoochun cooed and kissed him.

Jaejoong whimpered and kissed him back, until he could not breathe, and then he pulled away, their breaths echoing around them in the kitchen.

“This is a really weird time to bring this up, but I’m supposed to babysit today, do you mind?”

Jaejoong stared at him, still with tears on his cheeks, and he laughed. “You’re so weird. Way to spoil an emotional moment.”

“I had to bring it up because Junho is bringing Seoyeong over soon. I can cancel if you don’t want to.”

“It sounds like fun. I babysit my sisters’ kids sometimes. Junho’s a friend of yours?”

“He is Junsu’s twin brother. Like a lot of twins, they found their soulmates almost within a day of each other. Her name is Hana. Their daughter is five, and they have a son on the way. Junho likes to take his wife out on Sundays without Seoyeong, just to give her a break until the baby is born.”

Jaejoong smiled. “Will I get green toenails, too?”

Yoochun laughed. “If you’re worthy, she’ll paint yours in pink.”

“That sounds like a lot of fun.”

Yoochun glanced behind him at the clock on the wall. “I called Junho earlier and said I’d call him back after I’d talked to you. I’ll tell him to come on over. It won’t be for long. Just a few hours.”

“Does Seoyeong like cupcakes?”

Yoochun lifted an eyebrow. “She’s five, so yes.”

“Do you like cupcakes?” Jaejoong asked with a teasing smile.

“I’m almost twenty-five, so yes.”

Jaejoong laughed. “Do you have the stuff I need to make cupcakes?”

“We should. Yunho-hyung likes to think he can cook, but it’s usually disastrous. Poke around. I’ll go call Junho.” Yoochun stood up, and then leaned over him and pressed another kiss to his lips. “You’re everything I’ve always thought my soulmate would be, Kim Jaejoong.”

Jaejoong blushed and ducked his head.

With a small smile, Yoochun ran his hand through Jaejoong’s hair and then left the kitchen, whistling at first their soul song, and then variations. Jaejoong heard the variations. His soulmate was so understanding. Too understanding.

What if Jaejoong never heard his soul song? What if Yoochun was wrong that he’d learn to hear it?

He rubbed his face in his hands and stood up with a frustrated growl. It was so hard to be optimistic. So hard to let himself hope. Well, if he couldn’t be completely happy yet, then he might as well make cupcakes, because it was pretty much the same thing.

♪ ♫ ♪ ♫ ♪

Kim Junho was taller than his brother, a bit more broad-shouldered, stronger, and way calmer. He did not have pink hair. His soulmate was almost as tall as he was, skinny except for the baby bump, and long, long hair, longer than Yoochun’s. They were both ecstatic to meet him, and their little daughter Seoyeong was hesitant until Yoochun said the magic word.

Cupcakes.

Within a half hour, Seoyeong had declared Jaejoong-oppa her “besfrent,” which Yoochun translated to “best friend” and Jaejoong was sitting in a chair, with the girl on the floor, carefully painting pink polish onto his toenails (and his toes, and the hardwood floor).

Jaejoong was told that he was not allowed to move while Seoyeong and Yoochun decided on what cartoon to watch.

Seoyeong sat on the floor, her favorite stuffed cat in her hands, and watched the movie. Yoochun snuggled his way into Jaejoong’s lap, squishing them together on the arm chair.

“You still look sad, darling,” Yoochun said. “I don’t want you to be sad anymore.”

Jaejoong hugged him. “I’m better.”

“I know. I’m impatient though. I just want you to be the happiest person in the world because that’s what I feel like.”

Jaejoong sighed. “How ... how can you, especially after the thing in America?”

Yoochun lifted his head and touched his cheek. “What is the first thing you felt when you heard me sing our soul song?”

“Shock,” Jaejoong said.

“What else?”

Jaejoong tried to remember anything beyond the despair once he realized that Yoochun heard something different. He swallowed. “I felt ... like I’d been blow away, like there was wind in my head, rushing through me.”

Yoochun shifted, arms going around Jaejoong, between his back and the chair. “Good. When you play our song, on the piano, every time, that’s what it feels like in my head. Like my mind is wide open, like a long grassy meadow with the wind blowing the grass in patterns to the beat, and you’re on the other side of the meadow. You just have to walk across it, meet me in the middle.”

Jaejoong swallowed and tried not to cry. “I’m ... I ... what if ...”

Yoochun hummed their soul song, cutting Jaejoong off. “No what ifs. Not anymore. Just when. When you walk to me, when you accept me, when you accept yourself. I’ll be here. Okay?”

Jaejoong fought the tightness, lost and pressed his face to Yoochun’s head to hide his tears. It was quiet for a moment and then Seoyeong was demanding to know why Jaejoong was crying, and was it because no cupcakes? Cupcakes. We need cupcakes!

Jaejoong smiled and met Yoochun’s eyes. “We definitely need cupcakes.”

♪ ♫ ♪ ♫ ♪

“You were babysitting? What is wrong with you?”

“He said he didn’t mind?”

“You don’t meet your soulmate and then expect him to babysit a five-year-old. That’s the most unromantic thing ever! And is that pink nail polish on my bamboo floor? Hyung!”

“It will come off. It has before.”

“WHAT? Before? Why was there nail polish on my floor before?”

Jaejoong watched the two of them bicker, a smile on his face.

Yunho came up next to him and flung one arm around his shoulder. In the other hand was a cupcake covered in pink frosting. Loud enough to cut Yoohwan’s next tirade off, he said, “So when are you and Yoochun moving in together, because I have been dreaming for two days of not having to deal with this shit anymore.” He took a huge bite of the cupcake.

Jaejoong blushed and stammered, “W-well, my lease is up in three months.”

Yunho groaned. “Too long.”

Yoochun glared at him. “Just for that. Jaejoong and I will go to his apartment and he will make me the best Kimchi Jigae you two will never have the opportunity of tasting, and then--”

Jaejoong laughed. “It’s fine. I want to cook.”

Yoochun pouted and came to him for a hug. “Fine. But they better be eternally grateful.”

“Already am,” Yunho said and smiled. “He put a smile on your face.”

Yoohwan snorted and mumbled under his breath about annoying, good-for-nothing soulmates, and then he left the room.

“Don’t mind him,” Yunho said. “I’ll appease him later. With my mouth.”

“Ugh,” Yoochun said. “Don’t want to hear it. Literally. Can I move in with you, Jaejoong-ah? I really don’t ever need to hear my brother having sex again.”


	5. Adante

“Don’t worry about Yoohwan,” Yunho said to Jaejoong as he was putting on his boots to go home. “He’ll come around.”

Jaejoong tried to smile at him.

The two brothers had not said much to each other through dinner, but it had been Yunho reassuring him that it was normal when the two of them fought.

“Give it a week,” Yunho said. “In a week, Yoohwan will understand how much you mean to each other.

“Can I sleep at your place?” Yoochun suddenly said, face against Jaejoong’s neck. “Please? Fuck, what an ass.”

Yunho chuckled and winked at Jaejoong. “I’m sure there will be lots of fucking and ass.”

“Shut up,” Yoochun said. “I didn’t mean it like that. Just have to get out of here. Please.”

Jaejoong swallowed and said, “Y-yeah. Sure.”

“Good. I already have a bag packed. Let’s go.”

Yoochun kissed his cheek with a wide smile and Jaejoong tried to smile back, though it was a bit of a wince. Yoochun’s smile fell for a moment and then it was back, softer, understanding. He shouted a goodbye to his ungrateful brother, accepted a back slap from Yunho, and led the way out of the apartment.

Jaejoong felt like he was quaking, panicking, shaking. He couldn’t breathe.

Sex with your soulmate was supposed to be perfect. It was supposed to be amazing. The most uncomplicated moment in your life.

But what ... how was ... already? Jaejoong had never done anything like it before with anyone. Not even with or to himself. He didn’t even like to masturbate because it reminded him that he would never, ever have anyone to touch him.

Yoochun stopped them in the elevator and pressed a light kiss to his lips, hands at his hips. Jaejoong’s breath sped up a little.

“Stop,” Yoochun whispered. “Stop whatever you’re thinking. I honestly only want to get away from my brother. No expectations. This is nothing else. Okay. Unless you want it to be.”

Jaejoong swallowed and nodded. “I do ... but ...”

Yoochun’s hand was soft on his cheek. “You aren’t ready. I know. When you’re ready, you’ll let me know. I don’t expect anything else from you.”

The elevator opened and Yoochun took his hand, leading him outside. It took a few minutes to get a cab, but they both climbed in the back, and Yoochun pulled Jaejoong close, arm around his shoulder. Jaejoong stiffened against him.

Yoochun pressed a kiss to his head, squeezing him for a moment.

Jaejoong wanted ... didn’t want ... He was not sure what he wanted. He definitely wanted the doubts to go away. He definitely wanted Yoochun to be his soulmate. They were, right? They had to be. Jaejoong wouldn’t survive if they weren’t soulmates. He was too hopeful to just be crushed in the end.

And sitting like this, in the cab, curled up next to a warm body, it felt real. For a moment. He shut his eyes and relaxed. It felt very good to be pressed against a warm body. Very good to let someone else tell the cab driver his address. Let someone else worry about him.

Yoochun did not talk, which suited Jaejoong just fine. He had no idea what to say to the man who was too understanding. Too optimistic. Jaejoong understood how Yoochun could have been so easily swindled in America. He was so trusting. So loving.

Jaejoong played with Yoochun’s fingers where they lay against his knee. Such beautiful fingers, ones that were able to weave through notes, twirl through love and hope. And heartache. Would Jaejoong be the next one that cause Yoochun to write a sad song?

Yoochun smiled, chest vibrating with a soft chuckle. He turned his hand up and Jaejoong entwined their fingers. It was easy. They fit together so well. He was almost smiling when the cab stopped outside of his building.

Yoochun went right to his piano, of course, playing their soul song and then variations of it, over and over again. Jaejoong sighed. Why couldn’t he hear their soul song? He sat next to Yoochun on the piano and played his own variation of their song, in a minor key instead of major. That sounded better to his brain.

“Love,” Yoochun whispered and leaned his head on Jaejoong’s shoulder for a moment. He took up the song though, a minor key for a moment, and then morphing into a major key. Seamless. Yoochun was such a good musician. Jaejoong did not deserve him.

A moment later, the song twisted into a silly pop song, and Jaejoong smiled, taking a few deep breaths before singing along when Yoochun played songs he knew the lyrics to. He settled next to him and they played the piano together until Jaejoong was drooping, mostly asleep on Yoochun’s shoulder.

He did not want to go to bed. Every time he went to sleep, he waited to wake up from a dream that was too perfect.

Yoochun saw his reluctance as something else though. He hugged Jaejoong around the middle. “I promise. No pressure. This is just to sleep.”

Jaejoong nodded. “I know. I’m ... I’m sorry. I just ...”

“You need to be sure. I know. Stop apologizing.”

They slept in Jaejoong’s small bed, pressed so close together that there was enough room for a third person.

♪ ♫ ♪ ♫ ♪

Jaejoong woke up, heart a little lighter than the day before, when Yoochun was still in his bed and he was pretty sure that his life was not in the middle of what would end up being a painful dream. He watched Yoochun sleep for a few minutes and then carefully crawled out of the bed. He went about his routine. He went jogging at the park, not avoiding pianos, and then went home for a shower and breakfast. Yoochun slept on until Jaejoong made coffee.

With a grumble, Yoochun shuffled over to the tiny kitchen, a bit groggy and accepted a cup and then a kiss.

“You should have woken me up,” Yoochun muttered.

Jaejoong chuckled. “Maybe. But at least now I have an actual chance of being to work on time.”

Yoochun pouted. “Mean. Give me a kiss as an apology.”

Jaejoong touched Yoochun’s cheek softly. “I’ll give you a kiss because I want to.”

His smile was beautiful. Jaejoong’s chest tightened. How could someone be so beautiful? How could someone so beautiful want to be with him who was broken?

“Love,” Yoochun whispered, voice a little sad.

“I do want to, I just ... I’m not ...”

“You are. You are. You are,” Yoochun said, kissing him between each declaration. “I love you, soulmate of mine.”

Jaejoong smiled and fought back tears as their lips met again.

“I’ll hurry and get ready to go so you’re not late to work,” Yoochun said.

Jaejoong shook his head. “Stay if you want. Just make sure the door is locked on your way out.”

Yoochun chuckled. “I will.”

He was able to kiss Yoochun for fifteen minutes before he absolutely had to leave. So they stood in the middle of Jaejoong’s small apartment and kissed for twenty.

Jaejoong sailed to work, taking the short route past all the pianos. He was almost disappointed that no one was playing them this morning.

As soon as he walked through the door, Yoona demanded, “When’s the wedding?”

Jaejoong blushed and almost tripped over a display case.

Yoona laughed and intercepted him in the middle of the store, hugging him tightly. “I’m so happy for you, Jaejoong-ah. So happy. And you look so happy. Even if you can’t quite believe it yet, you look much happier.”

Jaejoong’s throat tightened, and he realized that Yoona was right. Even with the feeling that it wasn’t quite real, that it was all about to fall apart, he was happy. Hopeful.

“Okay, tell me all about him. Everything.”

Jaejoong cleared his throat and asked, “Can I clock in first?”

She laughed and waved him toward the computer. He punched in his work ID, the keys singing a morning song that had Jaejoong smiling. As soon as the last note dinged, Yoona was back, demanding answers, and Jaejoong told her everything about Yoochun.

♪ ♫ ♪ ♫ ♪

At about two in the afternoon, Yoochun walked into the store, and Jaejoong dropped all the pens and then managed to knock his pen display case onto the floor.

Yoochun chuckled and stopped him from bending down to clean them up. For a moment. For a kiss. And then a song came on the radio, one of VIXX’s songs, and Yoochun laughed and wrapped him up in his arms and danced with him around the store.

“I wrote this song,” Yoochun said.

Jaejoong had heard it before, but he did not know the words. He stopped to listen to a crooning voice sing about the one that got away, the one who was not his soulmate, but maybe someone one else. It was very hopeful, very encouraging.

“I always felt like that,” Yoochun said, stopping their dance and hugging Jaejoong tightly. “I always knew it was just a matter of time before I’d find you.”

“Have to clean up,” Jaejoong muttered against his neck.

“Have to kiss you.”

Jaejoong laughed and let him, right in the middle of the store.

“I need to leave,” Yoochun said between kisses, “or I’m going to topple you to the floor and I’m pretty sure you have a CTV system and that would be bad.”

Jaejoong smiled and attempted to step away from him.

“One more song,” Yoochun said, resuming their dance around the store. One song turned to two, and they did not stop dancing until Yoochun back-stepped right onto a pile of pens that Jaejoong had to clean up. A few of them cracked.

“Shit. Break it you bought it?” he said, an eyebrow raised.

Jaejoong shrugged. “Store policy.”

Laughing, Yoochun finally stepped away from him. They both kneeled on the floor to clean up the mess of pens, setting the broken ones aside. There were a few moments where Yoochun leaned closer, like he wanted a kiss, but Jaejoong pretended not to notice. Dancing in the middle of his store wasn’t really okay. He was supposed to be working. Even for a soulmate.

A soulmate.

Fuck. God, he had a soulmate. How was that even possible?

“Sing our soul song,” Jaejoong said, hands on his knees. He did not look up at Yoochun, eyes on a yellow pen that had rolled farther away.

Because Yoochun was perfect, he did not question the sudden request.

Yoochun sang it. Eight F majors.

Jaejoong’s shoulders sank and he curled forward a little bit. He tried to bite his lip against the noise of anguish, but Yoochun was there in a moment, holding him tightly. Jaejoong did not cry, but clung to him.

“I thought ... I thought ... why can’t I hear it?”

Yoochun hummed it. Still eight F majors. “You can hear it.”

“You know what I mean!” He pushed away, almost growling as he stood up and started straightening the pens on display.

Arms wrapped around his waist, lips against his neck. “What I mean is that this is your soul song, the one you have been hearing since ...”

“Sixteen.”

The arms tightened in support.

“It is your soul song because you hear those notes, the ones you’ve been hearing for so many years. I know you do. I believe you. I trust you. I love you. You can’t even understand how happy I am, how ... free ... how ... I do not know how to explain it. It is not fair that you do not feel the same way. And no, do not apologize. It is not your fault.”

Yoochun sang it again, and then again, and then again.

“It’s a beautiful moment in a perfect song. Perfect because while you cannot hear the melody, you have the harmony, you have the right key, and that’s all this is. We fit together. We belong together. A single line, a single verse, does not make a song. Songs are made from chords, from highs and lows. It is what makes life. Your soul song, all eight F majors, are just as important to our song, are just important to our life, as the notes in my head.”

Jaejoong turned around and hugged him. “What if I never hear it?”

Yoochun chuckled. He pushed away and winked, slow and deliberate. “Doesn’t matter. I hear it and now that I’ve gotten the chance of tumbling into bed with you, I’m not about--”

Jaejoong narrowed his eyes, cheeks flushing. “I’m serious!”

Yoochun nodded. “I know. But what did I just say? Your F majors are part of our song. Our song is made up of two people, not just one.” He touched Jaejoong’s cheek. “I’d much rather have a soulmate that complements me than one that is exactly like me.”

Jaejoong sighed. “Everything you say sounds like the lines to a song.”

“Or the sappy sayings written on pink stationery.”

Jaejoong laughed and hugged him. “Exactly.”

“Smile, my love, my soul, my heart. You are so beautiful. I’m so very lucky.”

“You’re ... you’re ...”

Yoochun pulled away, eyebrow raised. “I’m what?”

“You’re ... my soulmate,” Jaejoong whispered, voice rough, throat tightening. “All mine.”

Yoochun moaned and leaned forward to kiss him again, but the bells above the door jingled with an incoming customer and Jaejoong yanked away from him.

Laughing, Yoochun moved away and then blew him a kiss. “I have to go, my soulmate. I’ll call you later.”

Jaejoong nodded and watched him head for the door.

Almost there, Jaejoong said, “Yoochun?”

Yoochun stopped and turned around with a smile.

“Soulmate,” he said with a firm nod. “You’re my soulmate.”

Yoochun’s smile widened. He said, “You bet I am,” and he winked, and then left the store.

♪ ♫ ♪ ♫ ♪

Jaejoong was having a nightmare. Nothing concrete. Just faded images of everyone around him leaving him. Walking alone on a crowded street. Being invisible. And thumping. A weird beat that did not belong in the dream of silence.

Moaning, Jaejoong rolled over and realized that he was awake. The silence was real, a deep silence of after midnight but before dawn. And the noise was knocking, tapping on his door. Fuck. But the knocking stayed insistent. After a moment, he realized that it was knocking to a rhythm, a certain rhythm he knew well. He staggered through the apartment and opened the door, moaning at Yoochun’s bright smile. It was almost two in the morning.

“What the hell?” Jaejoong mumbled and headed back to bed.

“Sorry, I wanted to be with you.”

Jaejoong stared at him, bleary eyed, and then just fell onto his bed, curled up to go back to sleep. He stirred again only when Yoochun crawled into bed next to him.

Lips pressed against his shoulder.

Jaejoong smiled and went back to sleep, this time with dreams full of music and laughter.

♪ ♫ ♪ ♫ ♪

As with the day before, Jaejoong slipped out of bed before Yoochun was awake. Yoochun was not awake by the time Jaejoong had to leave for work, but he did not want to wake him, because then he’d be late. And a little part of him did not want to talk to Yoochun again, didn’t want to see his eyes shining with love or a smile of happiness. Part of Jaejoong still waited for the dream to end.

He had only been at work for about a half hour when Yoona started pestering him.

“Okay. Spill.”

Jaejoong cleared his throat and looked away. “Spill what?”

“You’ve been half happy and half depressed since you walked in here. Explain now. You have your soulmate. Why aren’t you just insanely happy?”

Jaejoong hugged himself, half turned away from Yoona. “I’m ... I’m trying. To be happy, I mean. But I haven’t ... I never thought ... It’s too good to be true, Yoona. I can’t hear his soul song. He can’t hear mine. It’s not ... we’re not ... but he’s so sweet and so perfect and so understanding. I just can’t ... “

Yoona hugged him, chin on his shoulder from the side. “I’ve watched you suffer for so long. I want you to be happy. I don’t think that you think you even realize that you deserve to be happy. It’s going to take you some time. But he is your soulmate and you know it, right?”

Jaejoong sighed. “Yes. I know ... I just ...”

Yoona spun him around suddenly just as the bells on the door jingled and Yoochun walked in, looking tired, but smiling, and he went right to Jaejoong, arms around his waist and kissed him.

“You didn’t wake me up,” Yoochun said with a pout.

Jaejoong licked his lips which was a bad idea (or a good idea) with Yoochun so close, and he didn’t wait for Jaejoong to say anything, but kissed him a little firmer.

“There. Good morning,” Yoochun said.

“Take the day off,” Yoona said behind them.

They both turned and looked at her.

“Take the day off, spend some time together. Obviously he needs it.”

Jaejoong flushed and looked down.

“I can’t today, actually,” Yoochun said. “That’s why I’m up before noon. Such an ungodly time of the day. I have a meeting with MinSu, required staff meeting, at twelve thirty. It will run a good two hours, and then upper management have to do quarterly numbers and Changmin is seriously a bitch. So sorry, my love, my mate, my heart, I cannot today.”

“Tomorrow?” Yoona asked.

Yoochun touched his cheek. “How about it?”

Jaejoong bit his lip and stammered, “I-I need ... money. I can’t ...”

“Vacation day,” Yoona said. “Paid vacation. There. No excuses.”

Yoochun smiled. “Yes or no, soulmate of mine?”

Jaejoong nodded. “O-okay. Tomorrow.”

“Good.” Yoochun winked, pressed a kiss to his lips and pulled away. “I’ll see you later, baby.”

“Are you going to pound on my door at two in the morning again?”

Yoochun laughed. “Of course.” The bells jingled as he exited.

Jaejoong buried his face in his hands and moaned.

“Sleeps over, does he?” Yoona asked, a teasing lilt to her tone.

Jaejoong stuck out his tongue.

“You tell me of your doubts and fears, but you have no problems with him kissing you, hugging you, sleeping with you. It sounds like you believe in your heart and your soul that he is your soulmate, but it’s your brain and your insecurities that are stopping you from following.”

Jaejoong leaned against the counter and nodded. “It’s so hard. It’s so ... unbelievable. And when he sings our soul song and I know it’s different, it’s so hard to shut up ...”

“Shut up the voice that’s been telling you that you aren’t good enough for almost fifteen years?”

Jaejoong’s throat tightened and he nodded.

“You’re good enough for Yoochun. You’re perfect for Yoochun. His eyes are just beams of light when he sees you. One of these days, pink and red hearts are going to start bouncing around his head. He is absolutely in love with you.”

Jaejoong nodded. “I’m afraid he’s going to change his mind because ... because I can’t hear our soul song. His soul song.”

“And I’m sure he’s reassured you multiple times?”

“Yes, but ... it’s ... early. He’s ... when he gets over ...”

Yoono shook her head. “I’ve met the man twice now, and I can already tell that he will never be anything but completely and utterly in love with you. Do you love him?”

“I ... I haven’t told him ... yet, but maybe? I don’t want to love the thought of having a soulmate.”

Yoona smiled. “Everyone loves that thought. But I don’t think you’ve ever had that thought. I don’t think you have ever thought you’d have a soulmate. You’ve spent too many years convincing yourself that you would never and could never have a soulmate, and now that he’s here, now that he’s so in love with you, you’re finding ways to remind yourself that you can’t ever have a soulmate. Stop it. Easier said than done, I know. But you don’t want to love Yoochun just because he’s your soulmate, then fine. Don’t. I don’t love Minho just because he’s my soulmate. That just started it, and then you know what I did? I went out with him. I got to know him. We dated and laughed and fucked.”

Jaejoong gasped at the harsh language.

Yoona only laughed. “Well, we did. And you’re right, the dazzle faded. Well, that’s not true, because you’ve seen Minho’s eyes turn to hearts when he sees me, but the dazzle made room for love and respect. I want you to spend all day with Yoochun tomorrow. Everything you do, I want you to do it with Yoochun. Be dazzled. Let yourself be dazzled. You deserve it.”

She hugged him again, and Jaejoong returned the hug and said, “O-okay. I will.”

“Good, now get to work on semi-annual inventory.”

Jaejoong moaned. "Yes, ma'am."

♪ ♫ ♪ ♫ ♪

After work, Jaejoong made a serious decision. He’d spent the entire time at work thinking about what Yoona said. She was right.

He did not deserve to have a soulmate. Not with his soul song. Not with one that was so different from Yoochun’s.

But that was the past. And he had to do something to show Yoochun that he was serious about this, that he wanted to try. It was going to be difficult for him to push away his demons, especially so quickly. But the hope and smiles and happiness in his heart were too good to just let go. He had to try.

So he went to a locksmith and made a key for his apartment door.

He had to force himself to stay awake, wait until Yoochun was knocking on the door at almost two in the morning. He’d had a cup of coffee at eight and that still wasn’t quite enough. The emotions in his heart were more exhausting than physical activity.

“Here,” he said, handing Yoochun a key before Yoochun even stepped into the apartment. “Your own key. Just come in whenever and don’t wake me up.”

Yoochun’s eyes went a little wide. “Really?”

Jaejoong rolled his eyes. “Yes, really. I need sleep.” He slammed the door and locked it. He heard Yoochun’s muffled laughter through the door.

Jaejoong was almost in bed when the door opened and then shut. Smiling, but keeping his back turned, Jaejoong climbed into bed and waited only a moment for the light to turn off and for Yoochun to slide in beside him.

“I love you,” Yoochun whispered, kissing his tattooed shoulder.

Jaejoong smiled and turned around, kissing him firmly. He took a very deep breath and told the truth. “I ... I want to. I really really want to. But it’s so scary. It’s so hard. I ... never thought ... soulmate. You’re my soulmate and I never thought I’d ever ... but I’m scared and you’re perfect and this is ...”

“Crazy?” Yoochun said with a grin. “It’s supposed to be, right? A whirlwind, a rollercoaster, a tornado. Loop-de-loops on my heart.”

Jaejoong buried his face Yoochun’s neck. “Thank you for understanding. Thank you for being patient. Thank you for not leaving me.”

Yoochun ran his hand over Jaejoong’s hair and then pulled at it to look at him. His smile lit up the dark, and Jaejoong did not mind missing out on a few more minutes of sleep for a few more kisses.


	6. Major Chords

Jaejoong woke up to soft touches on his stomach again. He moaned and tried to shove Yoochun away from him with his feet.

Yoochun laughed and dug his elbow into Jaejoong’s hip. “Hold still.”

“Fuck you. I’m tired.”

“Yes, well, I’m inspired, and it’s all your fault, soulmate of mine.”

Jaejoong huffed and listened to Yoochun hum while he wrote on Jaejoong’s stomach. “If it’s before six a.m., I’m recanting my soulmate confession.”

Yoochun chuckled. “Six thirty. Perfect.”

“God, it’s too early.”

“Inspiration strikes when inspiration will, and your body is inspiration.”

“Song lyrics?”

“Maybe. Now, hush.”

Jaejoong did not have to fight surges of lust this time, while Yoochun wrote on his skin, pressing tight to his body. He was way too tired to be awake.

“What are you most afraid of, my love?” Yoochun suddenly asked.

Jaejoong shut his eyes tight and took a deep breath. “Um, having an amatuer tattoo imprinted on my stomach?”

Yoochun chuckled. “Seriously. What are you most afraid of?”

“Having deep, emotional conversations when I’m tired.”

“I’m asking because you are tired, and you’ll be more susceptible to telling the truth.”

Jaejoong flung his arm over his eyes, almost unconsciously reaching down with the other one. His fingers shook as they ran through Yoochun’s long hair before settling against his shoulder.

“It’s all a dream,” Jaejoong finally said. “Waking up. Without you.”

“Then I guess that means I’m moving in. What else? That is scary, because I think the same thing sometimes, like I’ve just dreamed that I’ve finally found my soulmate. But it’s more than that with you, isn’t it? Tell me.”

Jaejoong took a quick, heavy breath. “I just ... I ... what if someone comes along that hears your soul song?” He dared a glance at Yoochun’s face, at his frown, and then shut his eyes and tried to relax.

“I’m not sure if there’s anything I can say to make that fear go away,” Yoochun finally said after a long moment of silence. Even the pen had been still. “At least, nothing more than I’ve already said.”

“I know, but if I keep talking, it will distract you enough to stop drawing on me.”

He laughed. “Maybe, but it will probably make me want to do other things to you while I’m down here.”

Jaejoong whimpered, and rolled over, pushing Yoochun away from him.

“Hey.”

“No,” Jaejoong said and sat up and then stood up, on the way to the bathroom. He locked the bathroom door, leaned against it and breathed deeply. Too much. Too close. Too soon.

Well, not too soon. Not in the typical way that soulmates worked. Most soulmates met and fucked. It’d been that exact reason that there were no longer laws against public sex, at least when it was new soulmates. Many restaurants and stores has special rooms near the bathrooms just for soulmate couples.

But he wasn’t ready yet. He was so angry at himself for doubting this. For doubting Yoochun. It was what he had wanted for so long. But it was too hard to believe after so long without. And it was so hard to not feel like everything was going to fall apart.

It also didn’t help that Yoochun kept staring at him like he was the most beautiful thing in the world, kept telling him he was the most beautiful thing in the world, kept touching him, kissing him, holding him, sleeping with him.

Jaejoong liked it. He definitely did. But each kiss and each touch was going to make their separation even more painful. When it happened. If it happened.

It was so hard to cling to the hope.

To trust someone he did not know at all.

But that was what today was for. All day. With Yoochun. He was cautiously excited. If anything because he and Yoochun were ... compatible. They really were. Like Yoochun said, they could be friends. Even if they weren’t soulmates.

But they were. They had to be.

Jaejoong would not survive if Yoochun was not his soulmate. Not after the last few days.

He used the bathroom, brushed his teeth, prolonging the task while trying to calm his thoughts. He was shaking as he finally left. His cheeks were flushed with embarrassment for running away from something that he was supposed to want. There wasn’t any where else to hide, and he was very aware of Yoochun watching him as he moved into the small kitchen nook and started the process of making coffee.

He only managed to get the coffee beans ground when arms snaked around his waist and warmth molded to his back. Fingers slid down his arms to his wrist, gripping lightly.

“You have the day off to do everything together with me,” Yoochun said.

“Coffee is sort of a one person job,” Jaejoong muttered.

Yoochun smiled against his shoulder. “I know. It is early though. Let’s go back to sleep. I promise I won’t draw on you. Later, I’ll go buy some staff paper and I’ll keep a stock of it here.”

Jaejoong let himself be led back to the bed, let himself be curled around Yoochun’s body, head against his chest, fingers tightening at his hip.

“Rest, my love. Relax and rest.”

Jaejoong turned his head away from the tempting warmth of Yoochun’s skin, and stiffened when Yoochun followed him around, ending up pressed tight together with Yoochun curled around him, arm about his waist, fingers tangled together. He squeezed, lips touching Jaejoong’s shoulder. He said nothing else, but hummed, a song, nothing really organized, just some notes, soft and slow.

♪ ♫ ♪ ♫ ♪

When Jaejoong woke up again, he was alone in bed. The entire apartment smelled of coffee. Soft notes echoed from the piano. Jaejoong lay still, listening to Yoochun play and hum. He could not help but smile. Waking up to music. He never would have thought he’d enjoy that. Every moment with Yoochun made hearing music less painful.

If this ended up being wishful thinking, if Yoochun left him, he’d probably get his eardrums taken out.

He turned to his side, watching the man who was his soulmate. He was only wearing boxers. Black with blue writing on the band. He knew that Yoochun had tattoos, but he’d never let himself look. Half of his back was covered in a scrolling music staff, notes looking like they were jumping from the lines. And the staff twisted and looped over and around itself. He’d have to get closer to see the melody. It took too long to realize that the staff turned into a treble clef before curling around his shoulder. The other half of his back had words Japanese, Korean and English. Jaejoong only managed to read the Korean from where he was:

_Love is wonderful, love is sweet.  
Love binds my soul to yours  
One day soon, when I’m with you  
I will say, I love you_

“You awake?” Yoochun whispered, not looking at him, but the music was suddenly a little louder.

Jaejoong looked over at him, smiling. “Yeah.”

He left the piano and came to the bed, falling to his knees. There were a few tattoos on his chest to, a wing curled around a nipple, words just under his ribs.

Jaejoong did not stop him from touching his cheek, from their lips meeting and tongues touching.

“You’re so beautiful,” Yoochun whispered. “God, I’m so lucky. You’re so amazingly handsome. So sweet. So respectful.”

“So corny,” Jaejoong said with a smile.

Yoochun laughed and tugged at his arm. “Come on. Up. Get coffee. We need to go to the market for breakfast.”

Jaejoong tugged back. “No. Come here. Stop talking. I need you to kiss me.”

Yoochun smiled widely, his chest visibly hitching. He climbed back in the bed, under the covers, over Jaejoong.

Jaejoong had expected some comment, something witty to make him laugh. Instead he got lips. The kiss he needed. It was enough to have him smiling anyway. With bodies molding, moving, settling, Jaejoong deepened the kiss. He was shaking, a little with nerves, but mostly with lust. He rarely ever let himself feel need. With Yoochun next to him, over him, around him, he did. He relaxed. It was really scary, to just let go. Just let Yoochun into his soul.

But he had to. Even if it was scary. Even if it was going to be so hard if Yoochun left him. He had to.

And he wanted to. He desperately wanted this man to touch him.

He didn’t know what to do. His hands started at Yoochun’s waist and moved up his back, sliding up firm muscles, warm skin. And then he went a little higher, pulling at the messy ponytail until the leather tie came free. The cascade of hair over him, had Jaejoong moaning, pulling at his hair, fingers buried in the softness.

His dick was hard. So was Yoochun, pressing against his hip, rocking a little. Panic bubbled up in his throat again and he pushed it away. Yoochun was his soulmate. They were going to be together forever. This is what soulmates did.

And they also understood you, and Yoochun was about perfect, so his body moved, pulling away.

Jaejoong protested with a noise, hands going to Yoochun’s hips to keep him close. He wanted Yoochun badly. He wanted him so much. He had to prove it. Despite the panic. The panic did not own him.

Yoochun did. Heart and soul. Yoochun owned him. Possessed him.

Carefully, Yoochun pushed back. He lifted his head, breaking their long kiss and rocked his hips. Jaejoong moaned, eyes shutting, lip between his teeth. Fingers danced over his arm and to his nipple, brushing over the nub for a moment. Warmth touched his stomach. His breath sped up and Yoochun stilled his hand.

Lips touched his again.

“I’m so scared of you leaving,” Jaejoong gasped. “Please don’t leave. Please don’t ... Stay I want you to stay. Don’t leave me. Don’t ever leave me.”

Yoochun kissed him quiet, a small noise to hush his sudden rambling. “I won’t.” Lips together, breaths together. “I won’t leave you. I won’t.”

Jaejoong pulled him close, burying his face in Yoochun’s shoulder, mouth against skin, shuddering. Crying a little.

Yoochun held him tightly, arms around his body, cradling him close.

♪ ♫ ♪ ♫ ♪

They stayed in bed for longer hours. Talking mostly, but also kissing. Touching. Reassuring. Just Yoochun being perfect as always. Jaejoong pushed back the anguish that he could not be so amazing to Yoochun.

It was near noon when Yoochun sighed and climbed out of the bed.

Jaejoong protested, and then again when Yoochun slipped on his jeans.

Yoochun grinned over at him. “Yunho is coming over with some of my stuff.”

“Huh?”

Eyes dancing with laughter, Yoochun said, “Earlier, remember, I said I was moving in. I called Yunho to tell him, and he offered to bring me some of the necessities.”

“Moving .. in. But ... wait. I ... huh?”

Yoochun pouted. “I’m not allowed to leave you, and you gave me a key. The two of them together makes it so I am moving in.”

Jaejoong huffed. “God.”

“Unless ...:” His voice was quiet, unsure.

Jaejoong waved at him. “Whatever. Shit. Just ... I thought you were joking.”

Yoochun leaned over the bed and pressed their lips together. “When it comes to you, my heart, nothing is a joke. I love you so much. I want to be with you every minute of every day.”

“When will Yunho be here?”

“About ten minutes.”

Jaejoong shut his eyes and nodded. “Just enough time for a kiss.”

“Not at all,” Yoochun said but kissed him anyway. A slow touch of warmth that had him crawling back into bed, over Jaejoong, hands by his head. Jaejoong kept his hands on Yoochun’s still-bare waist, up and down his sides.

“There is not enough time in the world for as long as I want to kiss you,” he said.

Jaejoong smiled and pulled him back flush, on top of him. He was only there for what felt like a moment before the intercom buzzed. Jaejoong sighed.

“Stay in bed,” Yoochun said with a grin and stood up. “He won’t stay long if he understands he interrupted something.”

“But he didn’t.”

Yoochun hit the button to open the door and then leaned against the wall next to it. His smile widened. “Yes, he did. He ruined time with my soulmate. And that was a very good kiss that just ended.”

“They’re all good,” Jaejoong whispered. “So ... unbelievable.”

Yoochun’s head tilted and said carefully, “It pains my heart how different we are with this. I’m so sorry that you’ve been so upset your entire life. It’s unbelievable to me because I’ve finally found my soulmate. It’s unbelievable to you because you don’t think you should have.”

Jaejoong flushed and turned his head the other way. Yoochun was right. With his soul song, he did not deserve ... and that it was not the same song that Yoochun heard, well ... he didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve Yoochun.

But Yoochun thought he did. Yoochun was not going anywhere.

He sighed and said nothing. Yoochun would only reassure him again.

A firm knock sounded on the door.

“I love you,” Yoochun said. “I’m going to say it over and over until it makes you smile instead of frown.”

Which was not fair to Yoochun at all. But he was right. It was so very hard.

He listened to Yunho’s voice, Yoochun’s responses. Yunho had brought about eight boxes. The essentials, he said, but Yoochun said that he and his brother were trying to get rid of him.

“Be right back, sexy soulmate of mine,” Yoochun said.

“With those muscles, he should be helping.”

“He’s not exactly dressed,” Yoochun said.

The door shut on Yunho’s laughter.

Jaejoong buried his face into the pillow. God, he was a mess. Yoochun was right. He should be happy. He should be ecstatic. He should be ... not this. Not this doubting mess of emotions. It was not fair to Yoochun.

It wasn’t fair to himself.

But until he heard his soul song, something besides F majors, until he heard the notes that echoed through Yoochun’s soul, he knew that he would always have doubts.

It only took a couple trips to get all the boxes Yunho brought up to Jaejoong’s apartment.

“You’re welcome,” Yunho said and nudged Yoochun with his shoulder.

Yoochun shoved him back out the door. “Yeah. Yeah. Thank you. Get out. You are not invited to stay for lunch.”

“Ungrateful brat,” Yunho muttered.

The door shut.

Jaejoong chuckled at the annoyed huff from the other side. Yoochun smiled and came back to bed, easily slipping out of the loose jeans.

“Just the essentials.”

Yoochun waved a hand in dismal and then climbed back onto the bed, over Jaejoong, lips touching. “I’ll unpack later. We were in the middle of something.”

Jaejoong laughed and said, “Corny,” again just before their lips met, just before Yoochun slid back under the covers and shoved his tongue into Jaejoong’s mouth.

For a lifetime of kisses like that, Jaejoong could believe that Yoochun was his soulmate.

♪ ♫ ♪ ♫ ♪

“So do you actually want to do anything today?” Yoochun asked. “Go out? See a movie? Anything?”

Jaejoong shrugged. “Maybe not. I haven’t even showered.”

Yoochun slurped up another mouthful of ramen. “Me neither. I don’t mind. I don’t mind at all spending every moment I can with you. Just with you.”

Jaejoong smiled around his own bite of food.

They sat cross legged on the floor, Jaejoong’s piano bench serving as a makeshift table. Yunho had brought over sheet music and pencils, and already Yoochun had written down a few notes, a continuation of the notes on Jaejoong’s stomach. Although, in order to copy them, he had to touch him, or so he claimed.

Jaejoong didn’t mind, letting Yoochun slide his fingers on his skin and hum the notes he’d written.

It’d been alluring. A short moment, but still so intimate. Definitely too intimate. Even thinking about it a couple hours later had Jaejoong flushing a little, shifting at the sudden stretch of his cock in boxers.

“We can watch a movie on my laptop,” Jaejoong offered.

Yoochun smiled widely. “Curled up under the covers like last time?”

He cleared his throat. “Yes.”

“Naked?”

“No.”

Yoochun pouted.

“But no more clothed than we’ve been all day.”

“I can live with that.”

“I don’t know. I’m starting to think that you can’t survive unless you’re making a sexual joke or doing something sexual.”

“You’re right. Better get to sex before I die during the night.”

Jaejoong threw a noodle at him. “Ass.”

Yoochun laughed. “Offer?”

Smiling, Jaejoong looked down at his food. “Maybe.”

♪ ♫ ♪ ♫ ♪

Jaejoong watched the square of orange sunlight move across the floor. He had never spent so much time in bed before. So lazy. So relaxing.

Being alone was painful, a reminder that he did not have a soulmate.

Now, there was someone in bed with him. Someone whose hands had not stopped touching him, whose lips followed flower petals down his back.

He stayed busy so he wouldn’t be alone. He stayed alone so he wouldn’t be reminded of the heartache.

With Yoochun, everything was better. Everything was lighter. Being awake was easier.

It almost felt like he was awake for the very first time, the fog and fear in his heart and mind were lifting.

Replaced with hope. Love.

Music.

Yoochun was constantly doing something musical. Humming, singing, playing. He lived and breathed music.

“Are you disappointed that we’ve spent all day in bed?” Yoochun asked. “I did have plans to take you out and spoil you rotten, show off, and wow you.”

Jaejoong smiled and shook his head. Lips touched his neck. “This ... I ... I really needed this. To just be able to think. Be with you. Understand things. I ... I’m sorry that ... You make everything easier. You make ... you’ve made me appreciate music again. It isn’t as painful anymore. That more than anything says so much.”

Yoochun hummed in agreement. “You’ve made me appreciate skin again.” His hand slid down Jaejoong’s bare back.

“Fuck off.”

Laughing, Yoochun pulled at Jaejoong’s shoulder until he was laying on his back, Yoochun pressed against him. His hand went to Jaejoong’s stomach again, the notes still written there, and then up and to his chest. A soft delicate touch that was echoed in the kiss Yoochun gave him.

Jaejoong sighed.

A happy sound.

He put his arms around Yoochun’s shoulders, pulling them flush together. “Thank you so much.”

Yoochun smiled widely. “Thank you for being exactly who you are. Exactly who I need. Everything I have ever wanted.”

Jaejoong blushed.

“I love you so much. I love how you complement me. How we just go together, how we fit together. How we’re both part of the same song. Different parts, but just as important as each other. It doesn’t really matter that you can’t hear what I hear. Remember what I said before? I’d much rather have a soulmate that complements me than one that is exactly like me. Different parts. Different notes that when played together make a song. Our soul song is made up of that. You and me. Your soul song and my soul song. Two parts to a whole. Two parts ... two parts ... Shit.”

Yoochun suddenly spun away from him, scrambled up from the bed, and headed to the piano. Jaejoong watched, half in wonder and half in lust. Yoochun was still only wearing boxers. And he was so beautiful, the warmth of the sunlight on his skin. The way the muscles played through his back, making the tattoos look like they were moving. His fingers were playing before he sat on the bench. F majors. Actual F majors at first, and then the soul song F majors. Jaejoong was not sure how he knew the difference, but the soul song was different.

And then Yoochun played each note, each moment of their song, with an F major. A chord.

“I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before,” Yoochun said and played them again, a little faster, each note with an F major. “You can hear that?” Yoochun asked, turning to look at him. “Each note.”

Jaejoong nodded. “Both together.” He sat up with a surprised shout when he finally realized what Yoochun was doing. “Two notes ... two ... fuck.” He stumbled up and out of the bed, catching himself on Yoochun’s shoulders before sitting next to him.

“Listen,” Yoochun whispered.

Jaejoong watched, eyes on Yoochun’s hands as he played their soul song, as chords with F majors. F majors. They were F majors. But ... different. They sounded different. It didn’t sound like two F majors being played at the same time. He could tell which note was an F and which ones weren’t.

F majors and not F majors.

“Fuck.” Jaejoong concentrated. Listening harder. Trying to hear the difference more clearly.

The difference was his soul song. The difference between that F major and the one he’d heard his whole life was the key to his soul.

“Can you hear it?” Yoochun asked. “Shit. Wait. Just ...” Yoochun put his elbows on the small wooden ledge and covered his face. “I’m shaking too much.”

Jaejoong rubbed his bare back, over the bumps of his spine and then following the tattoo of music notes down his back. On the lower octave of the piano, Jaejoong played the chords, F majors with Yoochun’s soul song.

No, with Yoochun’s part of the soul song.

Too slow to be their song, but enough that Jaejoong heard both notes.

“Fuck, just ... I can’t even believe this. Why didn’t I do this before?” His eyes shut. His fingers settled on the keys, and then he played. Their soul song. Chords. With F majors.

“I can’t ... it’s still the same, but not ... I can’t hear it.” They were F majors and then not F majors.

Yoochun shook his head. “I know. I know, but humor me. Let’s try this. You play what you hear and I’ll play what I hear. You play F majors. I’ll play the other part.”

Jaejoong followed Yoochun’s lead. Playing an F major with each note of their soul song. When the note of their soul song was also an F major, Yoochun pressed his finger to the ivory key with Jaejoong’s.

They did not talk. Just played. The same notes. Over and over. Faster and faster. Until Jaejoong understood. Until he realized they were playing the beat, the rhythm that had thudded through his heart so many times.

And he heard it, within the F majors. He heard the other notes. He heard the jazzy rift. He heard the keys. The melody. The melody to his harmony. It was faint. But it was there. Like the F major was louder than the other notes, but they were still there.

He stopped playing. Shaking too much.

Crying. Gasping.

Everything went back to that weird combination of F majors and not F majors as Yoochun kept playing.

But as soon as he started playing with Yoochun again, he heard the song. A softer, faint echo of the notes, but it was there, combined with his F majors. In his mind. In his soul. Wooshing through his head. Wind and music. Love ...

Love ...

He looked up at Yoochun, and Yoochun stopped playing. “Can you hear it?”

Jaejoong swallowed and nodded. “So ... So ... perfect. I can’t ... this ... I ...”

And that was enough talking. Which Yoochun also understood. And their lips were together, arms around each other. Jaejoong clung to him.

“Shit, shit, shit.”

Yoochun chuckled. “Pretty song, isn’t it?”

Jaejoong nodded. “So ... perfect. Just like you.”

“Just like us.”

“Us.” Jaejoong held onto him more tightly. “Us. Just ... just like us.”


	7. Let's Make Music Together

Jaejoong cried for a long time. Relief, happiness, love.

Mostly relief.

When Yoochun played their soul song, even with chords, all he heard were F majors and not F majors. But together. When they played it together, he could hear it. And it was gorgeous and beautiful. A little lazy, but happy. Jazzy.

It was everything that Yoochun was. Sexy, too. There was one moment, between the F and the C that just felt like a sexy smirk.

And Yoochun told him that it was everything that he was too.

Jaejoong wasn’t sure about that. Maybe there was a reason that he was the harmony. The same notes. Sort of boring.

But of course, Yoochun wouldn’t hear that.

“Without you, I’m just an insignificant string of notes,” Yoochun said. “With you, I’m a song. We are a song. We are our song.”

It took a lot of kisses and a couple of cups of tea before Jaejoong finally calmed down.

And lots of smiles. Yoochun’s kisses.

Yoochun hummed their soul song. Over and over. And again, it was just those annoying not-F majors. Until Jaejoong hummed it with him. And then he heard the music. The notes.

“Why ... why can’t ... I don’t understand why I only hear it when we play it together,” Jaejoong said.

Yoochun shrugged. “I don’t understand either. But--”

“Don’t say something corny again.”

Yoochun bit his lower lip. “Shit. That’s all I’ve got. I’m so in love with you that corny is all I’ve got.”

Jaejoong laughed and curled more tightly around his body, lips against his shoulder. “Ass.”

“Offer?”

Jaejoong froze for a moment and then relaxed. “M-maybe.” He understood why soulmates were so eager to fuck after they found one another. It was more than physical. It was more than love. There was a connection, and sex was part of that connection.

Yoochun chuckled, fingers soft where they ran through Jaejoong’s hair. “I love you.”

And Jaejoong understood how soulmates could fall in love so fast. When someone just fit with you, just understood you, just completed you in a way that you never knew was missing. It was so easy to fall in love.

Jaejoong lifted his head, met Yoochun’s eyes, and smiled. “I love you.”

With an even bigger smile, one that broke into a started laugh of happiness, Yoochun leaned down and kissed him.

“So happy,” Yoochun muttered against his lips. “I’m so happy.”

“Me too.”

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

Their kisses turned heavy, deep and reaching, and Jaejoong realized he had his hands over Yoochun’s back, fingers digging into the muscles. One leg wrapped around Yoochun’s waist. Bodies pressed together.

Together. So close. Touching. Where did he end? Where did Yoochun start? Or did either of them end or start, or were they just ... them?

Together.

Jaejoong smiled, pulled Yoochun more tightly against him.

Love. Happiness. Lust.

It was all too much and not enough. If he’d only trusted Yoochun a bit more the last few days, they would have already done this, but that wasn’t fair to himself. He hadn’t been ready. But now, with their soul song echoing in his head, he was ready.

They were meant to be. They had to be. Jaejoong would not survive if it all ended up being an elaborate farce.

They were meant to be.

In every way possible. With every dream. With every heartbeat.

“Can’t get enough of you,” Yoochun murmured and then his mouth was against Jaejoong’s neck, sucking and biting his way to collarbones and chest. Jaejoong gripped his head, fingers sliding into hair, getting caught on the tie, but enough leverage to hold tight and whimper. Shake at the warm mouth on his nipple. Gasp at the firm touch on his hip. Moan at the steady roll against his body.

It was a song, a dance ... a melody and harmony ... in love.

Jaejoong cried a little.

“Baby,” Yoochun cooed and kissed his lips again.

Jaejoong grasped his hair and then his body, hands unsteady as he tried to touch more. Yoochun moaned, hips rolling against Jaejoong’s, erections pressed tight together.

_Together._

“Love you, fuck, Yoochunnie,” Jaejoong gasped. “I love you.”

Yoochun smiled, thrusts against Jaejoong’s body a little more insistent, a little steadier.

Love, devotion, happiness. Was is possible to come from those things? Maybe. All Jaejoong knew is that these feelings, this need, this passion, was very different than any time he’d attempted to pleasure himself.

It was so good. Light, airy. Like wind blowing in the meadow. Music dancing upon the grass.

“I love you so much,” Yoochun gasped into his mouth.

Jaejoong nodded. Pleasure stealing his breath. Mouth open, gasping, body shaking. Everything peaked and twisted. He tore away from the kiss, curling up against Yoochun’s body, arms tight around his shoulders. Shuddering. Gasping. His vision blurred. His moan stuttered, cutting off with a high noise. He pressed his face to Yoochun’s neck, breathing him in, holding him too tight. Yoochun’s hand pressed against his back, a firm grip, holding him, supporting him. Another roll of his hips had Jaejoong muffling a cry, and the one after that had him coming, shivering through pleasure that was too much, too soon, too ... too perfect. The tension in his body suddenly relaxed, and he cried, gasping for breath.

Yoochun lowered him back to the bed, shushing him, whispering words of love and forever into his ear.

“I’ve got you, my love. You’re mine. All mine.”

Jaejoong clung to him and attempted to return the endearments, but he could not quite breathe yet.

Words turned to kisses, soft lips on his shoulder and cheek, then his lips. Soft. Sweet. Perfect brushes of lips and breath.

When Yoochun pulled away, Jaejoong smiled, eyes opening, meeting Yoochun’s gaze. His soulmate’s gaze. And Yoochun’s chest hitched, his lower lip was sucked into his mouth.

Concerned, Jaejoong lifted a shaking hand and touched his cheek.

Yoochun gripped his wrist and then turned his hand to kiss his palm. “Just ... the look on your face. Like ... like ...”

“You’re the most important, most precious, most amazing person on earth?” Jaejoong asked.

Yoochun nodded, blinking back tears.

“Now, you know how I’ve felt for the last few days. I love you. I know you love me.”

Yoochun gathered him back close, arms around his back, lips together. The soft, comforting, adoring kisses returned to demanding, tongue reaching for souls, hands sliding on sweaty skin.

Yoochun pulled away, despite Jaejoong’s attempts to keep their lips together. Pulling away meant lifting just his upper body. His lower body stayed flush against Jaejoong’s, hips moving together.

Jaejoong moaned.

Smiling, Yoochun said, “Let’s go take a shower. There’s a mess in both of our boxers that must be dealt with.”

Jaejoong flushed red, causing Yoochun to laugh. But he was more embarrassed because he hadn’t even realized that Yoochun had come too. God. Their lips touched, and Yoochun pushed away.

Following Yoochun out of bed, Jaejoong made a face at the wet mess in his boxers. Yeah, a shower sounded great. Yoochun went right to the shower to start the water. Blushing to his toes, Jaejoong slipped the soiled boxers from his body.

Fingers danced on his back, up and down his tattoo, tracing flower stems and the curves of petals. “So glad I don’t need to explain the tattoo thrill to you,” Yoochun murmured with lips against Jaejoong’s shoulder.

Jaejoong bit his lip; he doubted Yoochun had the same reason for tattoos as he did. But of course he stiffened. Of course Yoochun noticed. He hummed, a question buried against Jaejoong’s skin.

Jaejoong swallowed. Yoochun was his soulmate. Yoochun would understand. He was supposed to tell his soulmate everything.

“It hurt,” Jaejoong whispered, wondering if he needed to elaborate. Yoochun’s hands went to his hips, slipping over his skins, fingertips soft against the bend of his hip, toward his cock. Jaejoong shivered.

“Just ... it hurt ... and I ... I ...” He didn’t want to say that he liked it, but it ... “It made sense. The pain made sense.”

Yoochun wrapped an arms around his middle, lips against his ear. “Does this make sense?” His fingers were so soft against his nipple.

Jaejoong moaned. “N-no.”

“Good,” Yoochun said with a chuckle and loosened his hold. He pushed Jaejoong toward the shower. The water was warm on his skin. His shower is not big enough for two people. Unless they were wrapped around each other, and Yoochun’s arms wrapped around his waist, lips against his shoulder again.

“Seriously, now,” Yoochun murmured. “Let’s move into a place that has a bigger shower.”

Jaejoong smiled, doing nothing more in reply than gripping his wrists for a moment.

Yoochun’s touch increased, firmer swipes along his stomach and thighs, cleaning up the mess on his skin. Jaejoong shivered when his arm brushed over his cock, hoping the heated water hid the blush in his cheeks. Yoochun started humming, not their soul song, but a soft slow tune that Jaejoong recognized. A popular ballad, maybe?

Jaejoong was super aware of Yoochun’s hands on his skin. Bare skin, pressed together, touching, cleaning. He used soapy hands and not Jaejoong’s loofa to clean his skin. A bit of a waste of soap, but one he did not much mind. He was still a bit on a pleasure-filled edge after his orgasm, and Yoochun’s soft touches kept his dick mostly hard, his skin shivering, his breath gasping. He moaned when fingers wiped up over his cock, and fought the urge to jerk back into the hand that swiped up his cleft.

As with everything else, Yoochun was perfect, did not mention it, did not laugh, did not tease. He washed and Jaejoong let him. He turned where Yoochun turned him, ducked under the water to rinse soap away.

When Yoochun decided they were both clean enough, Jaejoong was half turned on and half relaxed, a silly loopy smile on his face.

Yoochun crowded him against the cool tile wall and kissed him. “Gorgeous.”

Jaejoong nodded, hand settling around Yoochun’s hip. “You too,” he whispered, breaking off to gasp when Yoochun pressed their entire bodies together. They were so close to the same height, that everything down to their toes just aligned perfectly. Yoochun was hard against his hip, insistent with his kisses, but without the water running, the air was cold, and Jaejoong shivered.

“Back to bed,” Yoochun asked, lips brushing over Jaejoong’s.

Jaejoong hummed in agreement. “Dry off first.”

Yoochun smiled and pulled away.

It was difficult to dry himself off when he kept staring at Yoochun’s skin, at the way his hair lay in a thick, wet line down his back, the way his muscles shifted, the way his skin was rosy from the hot water. He somehow managed to get control of himself when Yoochun pulled his hair up.

The apartment was dark, the sun long gone, the only light from the few street lamps out Jaejoong’s only window. They did not tumble back into bed, but curled up into bed, Yoochun going first, turning on his side for Jaejoong to slip under the covers with him. It’d been almost embarrassing the first time when they wore boxers, and now it wasn’t even close to that, as they slid together naked. It was ... natural.

Easy.

Jaejoong smiled, foot sliding over Yoochun’s leg, their lips meeting. Yoochun moved over him, bodies pressed together. The insistent pleasure between them flared for a moment, and then tapered down when Jaejoong relaxed into the kiss. They could do nothing more than kiss for the rest of their lives and Jaejoong would be happy.

Well, maybe not. The orgasm had been wonderful.

Having Yoochun arched over him, one hand around his neck, the other sliding up and down his side, was even more wonderful.

“Kiss you forever,” Yoochun whispered. “Want to ... want to kiss all of you.”

Jaejoong figured that was Yoochun’s way of asking for permission to do more than kiss him but he was too tense, too turned on, too taut, to ask properly.

Jaejoong smiled. “All of me? Show me.”

Yoochun’s answering smile was blinding in the dark. He moved to the side, just enough to get his lips on Jaejoong’s neck, and then down his shoulder. Soft kisses, wet touches of a tongue, little sucks. The hand on his side moved to his stomach, up over his twitching muscles to his nipple. Fingers squeezed lightly, and Jaejoong’s body arched a bit with a moan.

Jaejoong wasn’t too sure how to ask for what he wanted either. There was too much skin, too much heat, too much love between them for him to even know the answer to that. And Jaejoong didn’t watch porn, he barely ever jerked off, he had no idea what needed to be done or had to be done. Just a vague idea of holes and lube.

Yoochun’s mouth closed around his pec muscle, sucking along the obvious curve before going lower, down his ribs, fingertips light on his stomach, making the tense muscles jerk. His chest rubbed against Jaejoong’s erection, and he groaned, lifting his hips up to slide against smooth skin.

Yoochun chuckled, tilting his head up, chin digging into his skin.

“Need ... you,” Jaejoong whispered, hoping Yoochun understood like he always did.

He ran his hands up Jaejoong’s sides, pulling another moan and causing another firm thrust against his body.

“Top or bottom?” Yoochun asked.

Jaejoong gasped and said, “What?”

With a smile, Yoochun said, “Do you want to fuck me, or do you want me to fuck you? Top or bottom?”

Jaejoong froze, unsure. He’d never really thought about what he might prefer, though the few times he did jerk off in his life, he’d always pictured someone else doing things to him. Someone else touching him. Nothing in specifics, because he did not really know what to do, but who better to show him than his soulmate?

“We don’t have to do anything,” Yoochun said, kissing his side in reassurance, though that just made his cock throb a bit more. “Not if you aren’t ready for this.”

“I ... I am, I just ... don’t know ... don’t know what to do.”

Yoochun smiled. “How about I just go about what I usually do and you tell me to stop if you want me to stop?”

“Okay,” Jaejoong said, ignoring the pang from the word _usually._

“I think the first thing I’m going to do is suck on your dick. That okay?”

Jaejoong moaned. “Yes. Yes. That’s ... fine.” He covered his face with his arm to hide his flaming cheeks.

Yoochun shifted down the bed, fingers suddenly light against his erection. He ran his fingertip down the length of it (though length was being generous, in Jaejoong’s thoughts) and then to the soft head. He hooked a finger around the crown and lifted it.

And then he licked the tip and Jaejoong moaned, butt lifting off the bed.

Yoochun settled an arm along his thigh, his other hand gripping Jaejoong’s balls with a firm squeeze that had him again rolling his hips up.

“Please, please.”

Yoochun licked at the head again, the sensitive touch making Jaejoong’s toes curl in the blanket, his muscles all along his stomach tighten. And then Yoochun sucked on it, mouth warm around the head, a light slide of his tongue and then further in his mouth. Jaejoong bit his arm against a loud cry, pushing Yoochun’s head away from the sensitivity.

“No?” Yoochun asked, his fingers in a light grip, stroking up and down.

Jaejoong gasped, head swimming because it had felt so amazing. He had no idea how to explain it.

“Yes,” he managed to say, still muffled over his arm. “Yes, more.”

Yoochun hummed in agreement, excitement, pleasure and went right back to his dick with his mouth.

Jaejoong moaned, trying so hard to not shove him away again. The world spun, the room twisted and expanded, and he was sure he wasn’t really breathing even though he heard something like deep breaths echoing around him. His own breaths. His own whimpers.

Yoochun took him deeper, until his nose was pressed to Jaejoong’s stomach, and then slid his mouth back up. He massaged Jaejoong’s balls, a single finger sliding along the sensitive curse of his ass, and Jaejoong moaned, knees lifting off the bed, spreading. Almost unconsciously, but it felt good. Every touch to skin, every swipe of hand on his thighs or ass.

It wasn’t long with his dick sliding in and out of Yoochun’s mouth before that building of pleasure had him shaking, crying out. It was still such a strange feeling. At least now Jaejoong knew what it was. He sort of tugged on Yoochun’s hair, unsure when exactly his hands hand buried themselves into the still-wet lengths, pulling and messing up the bun.

Yoochun did not seem to mind, and instead of pulling off Jaejoong’s dick, like Jaejoong was trying to get him to do, he settled both hands on Jaejoong’s hip bones and bobbed his head faster. Pinning him down, setting him free.

Jaejoong sagged back into the pillows, arms above his head. His back arched off the bed, his whimpers escalated to a scream in the same way that the pleasure escalated into an orgasm. His body shook as he emptied himself into Yoochun’s mouth, everything pulsing with his heartbeat.

Like music.

And he was crying again.

Though this time he totally blamed Yoochun because fuck, that had felt good.

Yoochun licked at his cock and then down to his balls, pulling one into his mouth. Jaejoong moaned from how sensitive that was and tried to shove him away with his knee. But Yoochun caught his leg with a laugh, and moved his mouth there, kissing and sucking and biting from his knee down his thigh. Jaejoong moaned, lifting it higher and settling his foot on Yoochun’s back.

“Okay?”

Jaejoong gasped in response.

Warmth spread up his body, Yoochun crawling over him. It was so easy, so natural to wrap his legs around Yoochun’s waist, accept the kiss he wanted, slide his hands down Yoochun’s back. So easy.

Everything up to this moment had been so difficult.

“Not often I make someone cry after an orgasm,” Yoochun murmured, “and now I’ve done it twice. Guess I am just as good as I always knew I was.”

“Shut up, Cassanova.”

Yoochun chuckled. “You sure you’re okay?”

Jaejoong nodded. “So good.”

He was, until he felt Yoochun’s hard dick pressed against his body. “Do you ... do you want me to ... what ...” He slid his hand between them, and Yoochun lifted his hips enough for Jaejoong to wrap his fingers around Yoochun’s dick. He was shaking. He barely touched his own body let alone someone else’s.

Yoochun sighed, eyes fluttering shut at the weird jerks Jaejoong made with his hand. “Depends on you,” Yoochun said, hips jerking a bit. “This, a blowjob, inside you, hell, I don’t even care if you don’t want me to get off at all.”

“That isn’t fair.”

“Nope. So which is it? If you think you can come again, I’d be more than happy to go down on you again, eat you out, fingerfuck you until you’re screaming. Fuck, something.”

It was a bit too overwhelming, and Jaejoong had no idea what half of what he said even meant. It was embarrassing, and he didn’t really want Yoochun to know that he was that clueless. “Aren’t you doing what you want until I tell you to stop?”

Yoochun shivered. “Yes. Good.” He was gone fast enough that Jaejoong’s hand was left in the air, fingers curled around nothing.

Yoochun pushed at his knees and then his hips, his grip firm on the muscles. Jaejoong wasn’t sure what he was doing, but he cooperated, spreading his legs, lifting them and then gripping behind his knees. He flushed at the image of what he must have looked like, spread open and eager for Yoochun.

Yoochun paused only for a moment to look and then he was between Jaejoong’s legs, nuzzling at the juncture of thigh and butt, licking, biting suddenly, sucking. Jaejoong tightened his grip on his knees, thankful for that small support. When Yoochun’s tongue slid up his cleft, soft and warm on his entrance, Jaejoong practically screamed.

Yoochun squeezed his butt and spread him open for a firm lick right up his cleft.

“Oh, god, fuck,” Jaejoong gasped. The sensations were about ten time more electric than the touch of Yoochun’s mouth on the tip of his dick.

Yoochun teased a little longer, bites to the shivering curves of his ass, soft touches of tongue to his clenching entrance.

Jaejoong dug his nails into his own skin. Once again his moans and whimpers echoed around them, breaking off to high whines when Yoochun actually pressed his tongue inside him. Brief touches on even more sensitive skin.

“Fuck, fuck, Yoochunnie, just ...”

His mouth moved up his thigh, pressing kisses to his skin, and then went to his balls. It was a slow form of torture as he made his way higher, licking at his dick, settling between his legs. But there was still something firm and slick against his body, pressing lightly, entering him.

Jaejoong whimpered, clenching tight against the intrusion that felt a little strange, but mostly insanely wonderful. His head was spinning. Or the room was. Something was spinning.

“Do you have lube?” Yoochun whispered, pressing ... a finger ... yeah, his finger a bit deeper.

Jaejoong winced at the sudden sting.

Yoochun pulled away and then fell over him, kissing his open mouth, sucking at his lower lip. Jaejoong let go of his legs and wrapped them around Yoochun’s waist again. His hard cock settled against Jaejoong’s ass, and he shivered. Mostly in anticipation.

“Lube?” Yoochun repeated into their next heavy kiss.

Jaejoong shook his head. He had no reason to buy any.

“Good thing I came prepared.”

“You mean Yunho brought some?”

Yoochun pouted at him. “I supply my own sex products, thank you very much.”

“Have a lot of sex, do you?”

Yoochun’s pout deepened, though this time it was less playful.

“Sorry,” Jaejoong muttered and looked away. “I shouldn’t be angry about that.”

“You have every right to be angry about that. Maybe if I spent less time in other people’s beds, I would have come into your music store sooner.”

Jaejoong bit his lip. “M-maybe. But ...”

“No one else but you, my love,” Yoochun assured him with a kiss to his neck. “Even without knowing we were soulmates, I was having a hard time not toppling you over a countertop and making whoever watches your CTV videos blush.”

Jaejoong flushed and moaned and tried to shove Yoochun away from him, which was pointless because he still had a firm grip around his hips.

Yoochun chuckled. “Let me up to get lube. My fingers won’t hurt at all with lube.”

“Kiss me first.”

Yoochun smile widened and he kissed him, soft and short. “I love you.”

Jaejoong throat tightened and he nodded. “Love you too.”

Yoochun kissed his nose of all things and then pulled away from him, Jaejoong loosening his legs to let him go. His hair was a mess, half falling down his back and half still wrapped in a bun. It blocked most of the tattoos on his shoulders. He went to a bag near the door, bending over to rummage through it, giving Jaejoong a shot of his ass.

“Skinny ass,” Jaejoong accidentally said out loud.

Yoochun laughed. “Yeah, shut up. I’d rather sit on it than exercise.”

“For as much as you sit on it, maybe you should get a bit more padding.”

He stood up straight and came back to the bed with a white bottle in his hands. “Or, you could just learn to admire what I have, just enough to hold on to while you’re fucking me.”

Jaejoong blushed. “B-but ... I thought ...”

Yoochun kissed him. “This time. Next time? Or maybe the third time, I want you inside me, Jaejoongie. I like sex both ways, and to be driven crazy with lust by my soulmate is the best sorts of fantasies come true.”

Jaejoong bit his lip.”Some promise,” he managed to say. “Crazy with lust? I hope you can deliver.”

“Baby, you are already halfway there.”

And wasn’t that the truth.

Jaejoong laughed. “Okay, fine. You win. Continue?” Shaking and a bit embarrassed, he lifted his legs, gripping behind his knees again.

Yoochun moaned, and his lips went right to Jaejoong’s thigh, sliding down in teasing bites until he was resituated between Jaejoong’s legs. He gripped Jaejoong’s ass again, licking up his cleft again, swiping tongue and then finger over his entrance.

Jaejoong wasn’t quite sure what to expect next, besides fingers. He did not expect it to feel so good because that was weird, fingers ... up there? But it was slick, like Yoochun said, it didn’t sting. He clamped down around Yoochun’s finger in surprise, gasping when Yoochun sucked on the sensitive skin of his inner thigh. Pushing in had felt intrusive, tight and uncomfortable where something like a finger should not have been. Sliding out felt relaxing, almost like relief. The two together, a constant cycle of tight and relaxing felt amazing. Orgasmic. He was hard on his stomach again, his dick jerking to the little touches of Yoochun’s finger inside him and to his mouth, sucking and biting up and down Jaejoong’s thighs.

He wondered if he was going to have hickys. He hoped he was going to have hickys.

Two fingers was tight, back to more uncomfortable than relaxing. Yoochun hummed at the harsh breath Jaejoong sucked in and added more lube. His fingers twisted and spread, still a slow drag in and out of his body. Tingels twisted up his spine and he saw stars for moment. It was getting harder to hold his legs up, his thighs tense, lower back aching a little.

Three fingers hurt. Just a little.

Just enough.

His cock throbbed as he gasped and Yoochun kissed up his balls again, over his erection. He sucked Jaejoong into his mouth, fingers pumping faster, twisting harder. His body was connected to them, the room spiraling in the same way that Yoochun moved. And then his mouth left and his fingers left, leaving Jaejoong panting and so close to orgasm.

He glared. “Park Yoochun.”

Yoochun laughed and crawled over him for a kiss. “I’m going to fuck you now.”

Jaejoong shivered.

“You don’t like it, we stop, I promise.”

He hadn’t shivered in fear, but he wasn’t really sure how to explain how much he needed Yoochun. Yes, the orgasms were nice, but it was the physical effects of the sex that he needed, the hickys, the soreness, the tightness, so he knew that tomorrow it wasn’t all just a dream.

Jaejoong wrapped his legs around Yoochun’s body, shifting at the new angle that was better than holding himself. Yoochun settled on top of him, curled with an arm under his neck, the other on his side. Their kiss drifted to too long considering how eager they both were to be joined together. Neither actually minded.

“Well, Cassanova?” Jaejoong asked once the pleasure and lust had simmered down.

Yoochun smiled, touching his cheek softly. “I could do nothing but kiss you for the rest of our lives and be the happiest man in the world.”

Jaejoong flushed, trying to turn his head away. That he had the same thought earlier should not have surprised him. They were soulmates.

“Yes, okay, but let’s try sex first and see if we’d rather do that.”

Yoochun laughed. He shifted to his knees, reaching for the discarded white bottle. His erection had tapered off a bit, but was back to hard and bursting as he spread lube over himself. Jaejoong bit his lip as he watched. He could also just watch Yoochun touch himself for the rest of their lives. The slick fingers went back to his body and pressed deep.

Jaejoong moaned, twisting again for a better angle. One that had him seeing stars again, his mouth dropping open in a silent cry. He shook, pulsing a bit of release onto his stomach. He was still reveling in the tingles when the fingers left and the soft head of Yoochun’s dick swiped up over his cleft, teasing the whorled opening that clenched with every touch. He settled a hand on Jaejoong’s thigh, fingers tightening before he pushed forward. Jaejoong cried out at the first stretch, making Yoochun pull away and go back to teasing. Little dips into his body, sliding up over his skin. More lube dripped where they connected.

Yoochun waited until Jaejoong had relaxed before pushing in again, sliding a bit deeper. Jaejoong throat closed, cutting off a noise of ... want? Lust? He had no idea. Something. Yoochun did not retreat, but stayed sheathed inside him. His thrusts were short, pushing a bit deeper.

“Fuck,” Jaejoong gasped, entire body tight. HIs fingers were digging into Yoochun’s arms. It definitely hurt. But it wasn’t a sharp pain like a tattoo needle. Or an emotional one like spending his entire life in despair. Just tight, uncomfortable, a weird combination of too much and not enough.

Yoochun fell over him, thrusts lengthening, and their mouths met in a wet kiss. Their bodies were pressed together, Yoochun inside him as far as he could go, and Jaejoong wrapped his arms around his back, keeping them pressed together as much as possible.

“Shit,” Yoochun gasped. “I’m not even going to last long enough for you to come again.”

“Sweet talker,” Jaejoong said, voice just as breathy.

Yoochun stuttered out a laugh, body shaking just as much as Jaejoong’s. He pushed back up, one hand on Jaejoong’s chest, the other went to his dick, curling around it and pumping in time to his thrusts. Jaejoong grabbed for his hand, entwining their fingers where they were pressed against his heart.

Jaejoong moaned, lifting his but to meet him, jerking his dick through Yoochun’s hand.

Again, the pleasureable tight and relax of pain was gone too soon and Yoochun stroked his own dick. Jaejoong watched, eyes mostly closed as his body relaxed, until Yoochun gasped, body shaking, and his dick pulsed, shooting his come up over Jaejoong’s chest and stomach. He leaned forward, mouth open in a moan, and then forced himself down, back between his legs. Before Jaejoong could protest, Yoochun’s fingers were inside him again, his mouth on his cock, sucking his soul out of his dick.

Jaejoong gasped, hands tangling in Yoochun’s messy hair. His hips found their movement again until he was fucking up into his mouth, grinding down on his fingers. The spinning came back, the tingles grew worse. Or better.

So good. So much better.

Crazy with lust.

Jaejoong sagged back into the bed as his orgasm hit. Yoochun’s mouth pulled away at the very last moment, and he pulsed his release onto his stomach. Not much of it, just enough to mix with Yoochun’s, joined even in their spunk. He smiled because that was a sappy and sort of gross thought.

“You need a shower again.”

“I need a kiss again,” Jaejoong said, not realizing his eyes were shut until Yoochun’s lips were there and he hadn’t seen the other coming up for his request.

Jaejoong wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close, sliding to the side to really get their bodies entwined. And their come all over Yoochun.

“There,” Jaejoong said against his lips. “Now we both need a shower again.”

“In a minute. Let me kiss you.”

Jaejoong had no problems with that. There was a growing ache in his lower back, and the muscles on his thighs were tense, almost like they were cramping.

“Okay,” Jaejoong said, running his fingers over Yoochun’s cheek, pausing at the dimple. “Okay. I really want a bath. So let’s move.”

Yoochun’s smile was blinding.

“You have to pay the fee for breaking my lease,” Jaejoong said and tapped his nose.

“A small price to pay for having you in my life forever. Are we getting married?”

“Wow. That was a really lame proposal.”

Yoochun pouted. “You want me to propose?”

Jaejoong nodded. “Properly.”

“Right now?”

He shook his head. “When people ask me where we were when we decided to get married, I do not want to tell them in bed and covered in come!”

Yoochun laughed. “Oh, god. I do. That’s fucking awesome.”

“Shut up.”

Their lips touched again, smiles sort of ruining everything for a little while. Yoochun pressed his forehead to Jaejoong, sharing breaths, sharing their souls.

“Marry me?” Yoochun whispered.

Jaejoong shivered, chest tightening with love. But he pulled away and smacked Yoochun’s chest. “Park Yoochun, what did I just say?”

“I know, I know. But yes or no?”

Jaejoong grumbled. “Maybe. Come on. Let’s shower. I’m going to be so tired for work tomorrow.”


	8. Capriccio

Jaejoong woke up first. Not surprising. He was learning very quickly that his new soulmate and lover was not a morning person.

He stayed in bed, staring at his sleeping Yoochun, fighting the urge to wake him up with his fingers or his mouth or his body. God, he wanted to touch. Reassure himself again that this was not a dream. Let himself hope again that this was not a dream. With the echo of their soul song fluttering through his heart, it was much easier to quiet the dissonant thoughts.

Noticing that his phone was flashing with a message, Jaejoong sighed and got out of the bed. He pattered naked to the kitchen counter where both of their phones were plugged in. The message was from Yoona.

_Do you need another day off? One to recover. Ha Ha ha ha_

Jaejoong bit his lip against laughter. He texted back a no, that he’d be there on time, and then went about his morning, making coffee and something to eat. He did not go running. His entire body ached. But god, he felt so good. Was he still smiling? He was still smiling.

Everything was still so surreal, but he was finally believing it all. Finally understanding that he had a soulmate, and his soulmate was perfect and wonderful and they were just ... meant to be. They just fit together.

Oh, fuck did they fit together so well. His cock gave a very interested twitch as he looked back to the bed.

Yoochun was flung all asunder, half his body under the blankets, the other half out. His arm was stretched across the bed, like he’d reached for Jaejoong and then settled on where Jaejoong was supposed to be.

Before he could crawl back into bed and end up being late for work, he hurried to his dresser to get dressed.

As he hoped, there were hickys on the inside of his thighs. And on his chest. And one on his neck that was going to be hard to hide, so he didn’t bother. Yoona was going to tease him. Jaejoong discovered that he didn’t actually mind.

They were proof that Yoochun was real. The one on his chest stung sharply when he touched it. So he did. Again and again. It was not just his imagination. He wondered if he should talk to Yoochun about that. About needing the physical and painful proof that Yoochun was real, that he had found his soulmate. Maybe later he would. He did not want Yoochun to think even for a moment that he did not want Yoochun. He didn’t want his perfect amazing soulmate to misunderstand. He had a feeling that Yoochun was going to leave hickys all over his body like he left penned music notes, so he didn’t need to tell Yoochun about the pain. He’d still have the proof when he needed it most.

With his head light as a feather, his heart thumping in cadence to his breaths, and the smile that refused to go away, Jaejoong did not really need the painful proof. Not all the time.

He waited until he absolutely had to go to work, and then went back to the bed. Kneeling on the floor, he reached for Yoochun’s bare back, sliding fingertips up his spine. Yoochun huffed and shifted, baring a bit more of his body. Jaejoong moved his fingers to the back of his thigh, tickling the curve of his ass.

Yoochun grumbled something that sounded like, “Stop. Sleeping.”

Chuckling, Jaejoong leaned over and added his lips to the touches, over his shoulder, down his arm, following tattooed music notes on his back. When he was sure that Yoochun was awake and aware enough, he said, “I have to go to work.”

Finally, Yoochun sighed and turned over, bleary eyed and sleep rumpled. His hair was a mess.

Jaejoong had to grip the edge of the bed to keep himself from climbing up next to Yoochun and never leaving.

Especially when he got a pout. “Stay home?”

“I can’t afford to.”

“I’m your sugar daddy. Stay home.”

Jaejoong tilted his head and frowned. “And you should know, as my soulmate, that I don’t care how much money you have. It isn’t money that I have.”

“I know. Just ... don’t want you to leave.”

“Come visit me later?”

“You know I will.”

Jaejoong leaned forward for a kiss.

“Did you mean it?”

Jaejoong hummed. “Mean what?”

“We can move in together. Someplace else?”

Jaejoong smiled and ran his hand over Yoochun’s cheek, brushing hair from his face. “I meant it.”

“I have a place in mind, where I was thinking of moving on my own.”

Jaejoong nodded. “See if it’s available. We’ll go look at it together.”

Yoochun’s tired smile was one that Jaejoong knew he’d never get sick of. He kissed him again, a longer touch of lips that only Yoochun’s unbrushed mouth kept from turning into more than kisses.

“I love you,” Jaejoong said.

“I love you too.”

Jaejoong pried himself away from Yoochun, leaving him curled up in the blankets and almost asleep again before Jaejoong managed to walk out the door.

He was pretty sure he floated, and not walked, all the way to work.

Yoona was smiling at him, and sure enough, she zeroed in on the hicky on his neck and cackled.

Jaejoong blushed, but could not stop the smile from exploding over his face as he clocked in for his shift.

“So?” Yoona asked. “Are those fingers of his good for something other than playing the piano?”

“Yoona!”

♪ ♫ ♪ ♫ ♪

The apartment building Yoochun had his eye on was far away from Jaejoong’s work. He’d have to take a subway and maybe a bus. But the space was gorgeous. Large windows let in light to the main area, and the kitchen was huge. Jaejoong loved to cook, but he had no idea what to do with all that space. There were three bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a balcony that was almost right against the next building over.

The tiled floors were cold on his slippered feet. Everything was modern and square and straight lines ... stiff. Boxes, harsh lines.

Intimidating.

It was so big compared his small studio apartment.

“You don’t like it,” Yoochun noted, taking his hand.

They stood in the middle of the main room, facing the huge windows, which faced the street and the building right across from them. Yoochun was dressed down, so unassuming of his wealth in jeans and a t-shirt, flip flops. His hair was pulled away from his face in a heavy leather band, but it fell in a long line down his back. Jaejoong kept touching it, almost unconsciously, as they walked around the place.

“It’s ... too much. I ... I mean, I can get used to it.”

Yoochun shook his head. “You shouldn’t have to get used to. You should love it. I want you to love it. It’s going to be our home. Our place.”

Jaejoong smiled. “It’s a bit stuffy. Too manufactured.”

“I might have a solution,” Ailee, the property manager said, glancing at her clipboard. “There is a building a bit of a walk away from this one that has a three-bedroom unit available. It’s smaller, nowhere near the prestige of this one, but it could work. We normally lease it to families since it’s near a good school and a park, but I can show you to see if you would like it. If you don’t, it will at least give me a better idea of what to show you next.”

Yoochun smiled at Jaejoong. “Near a park. You can keep running.”

Jaejoong laughed. “I can make you run with me.”

“Never.”

“Let’s go.”

With fingers entwined, they followed Ailee to the elevator and then out into the sunshine. It was such a nice day, and Jaejoong could not keep the smile off his face, head tilted back, and he only half-listened to Yoochun and the woman talk about finances and work that the next place may need done.

As soon as they turned up the street the building was on, Jaejoong felt much better. It wasn’t a straight street with a perfect sidewalk covered with businessmen rushing to work, but the road weaved up a hill, the sidewalks curling around front porches and random patches of grass. Stairs led up between houses to the next streets over. The street was lined with older brick homes that were not the same size. There were clothes hanging over balconies, potted plants at front doors, and more than one older couple that smiled at them as they walked by. A few buildings even had pianos outside.

“Now that is a smile that says you love it already,” Yoochun said and bumped his shoulder.

They passed the park, full of parents with young children. It had a sidewalk around it and a creek that tumbled down the middle of it.

“There’s a market a few streets over and a subway station nearby,” Ailee said.

She stopped in front of a red brick building that looked about six stories. She opened the door with a code and led them to a set of metal stairs on the other side of an enclosed courtyard that had a fountain and trees and flowers. A glimmer of sunlight turned the space into a haven of cool shadows.

“This apartment is on the top floor. There is not an elevator, but it does have access to a rooftop balcony as well as a view of the inner courtyard.”

She unlocked the door with an actual key, not a swipe card, and let Yoochun and Jaejoong in ahead of her.

The first thing Jaejoong noticed was sunlight shining through the main window. The second thing he noticed were the cabinets in the kitchen. Like the other place, the main area was open, with wooden floors and built-in book cases along the wall. The kitchen was rustic instead of modern. It had a good fridge, stovetop, dishwasher and a clothes washer, everything he needed without being intimidating. It even had a small oven. Just big enough to make baked treats when he wanted to.

A sliding glass door off the kitchen led to the patio that overlooked the street. He could see up and down the neighborhood from the vantage point. The patio was empty right now, but Jaejoong could already imagine it covered in plants and furniture. A perfect place for coffee in the morning.

“Probably the only downside is that two of the bedrooms are connected,” the property manager said. “You have to walk through one to get to the other, but the far room is the one with the view of the courtyard.”

“You like it?” Yoochun asked.

Jaejoong smiled at him. “It’s so bright,” he said, voice a little awed. “So much sun, and so much ... just ... bright.”

“Now you know how I feel when I look at you.”

Jaejoong flushed and bumped him with his shoulder. “So corny.”

“I know, but It doesn’t matter how bright the sun is because it’s your smile that lights up my world.” Yoochun’s eyes went a little glassy and then he muttered, “Shit. Wow. Can I borrow your pen, Ailee-shi?”

The property manager handed it over with a confused look.

Yoochun pushed up the sleeve of Jaejoong’s shirt and started scribbling on his arm.

Jaejoong met Ailee’s eyes and smiled. “He’s a musician. This happens a lot.”

She smiled in understanding.

“Lovely,” Yoochun murmured and pressed a kiss to the inked words on Jaejoong’s forearm.

“Can we continue now?” Jaejoong asked, successfully hiding a shiver.

“Yes. Continue.”

The place had two bathrooms, one across from the small bedroom in the hallway. On the walls of the bedroom, someone had painted pink flowers connected with twisting green vines.

“We are more than happy to paint anything that you do not approve of,” the woman said.

Yoochun shook his head. “This room will probably be used by MinSu or my brother. They can suffer with the decor.”

Jaejoong chuckled. “I like it. It’s ... pretty.”

The other two bedrooms did connect, but it wasn’t a horrible thing. The first bedroom was pretty plain, just a square room with a closet and a built in dresser.

“This will be a perfect music room,” Yoochun said. “Plus it separates what will be our room from everything else. A perfect sanctuary.”

The main bedroom was a bit bigger. The windows looked out over the inner courtyard, bathing the space in light not as bright as the main room, but just cozy enough for Jaejoong to feel right at home. The bathroom had a tub surprisingly, and the closet was large with two sides, one for each of them.

“It’s ... it’s almost too perfect,” Jaejoong said, running his hand over the obviously worn door.

“And all it needs is us to be perfect,” Yoochun said, arm around his waist, face at his neck.

Jaejoong smiled.

“You two are so cute,” Ailee said and then eeped and covered her mouth with her hand.

Yoochun chuckled, not taking offense.

Jaejoong just blushed. “New soulmates. It sort of happens.”

Her eyes sparkled and she nodded. “I know the feeling. So I am going to assume you like this space?”

Yoochun and Jaejoong met each other's eyes and nodded. “We’ll take it.”

♪ ♫ ♪ ♫ ♪

“God damn it, Park Yoochun, I hate you. What is even in this box?” Changmin complained ahead of them as he helped carry a heavy box up the stairs to their new apartment, biceps straining under the weight.

“Your ego.”

Junsu laughed from behind them. “Your ego! Ah, good one Yoochunnie. Ha! His ego. I don’t think it’d be able to even fit in a box though.”

“You’re going to be cut off if you keep talking, Kim Junsu.”

“I have toys. I don’t need your dick.”

“I’ll steal all your toys.”

“I have my fingers and my hand.”

“I’ll tie you up.”

“Now, you’re just making a promise you won’t keep.”

“Guys,” Jaejoong said, “family neighborhood.”

Junsu laughed. “Sorry, Jaejoong-hyung. This building is really ... old. But like ... it suits you. And Chunnie. I’d never live here, god no, but it’s good for you two.”

“We think so too,” Yoochun said.

“Thanks for helping,” Jaejoong said again, following Changmin into the apartment.

“You promised him good food,” Junsu said. “Changmin will do almost anything for good food, even wear a little pink --”

Fortunately for Changmin, he was close enough to Junsu to cover his mouth quickly.

“Wear a little pink what?” Yoochun asked, eyes gleaming.

“Nothing,” Changmin snapped. “He said nothing. You heard nothing.”

Junsu laughed behind his hand.

Yoochun laughed and continued pestering them.

Jaejoong stood back a bit from the three friends, just watching them. They were such good friends. Jaejoong didn’t have any friends. He barely spoke to anyone outside of Yoona and her family, but they still weren’t his friends.

Yoochun suddenly smiled over at him. His face must have looked sad or something because Yoochun was there next to him a moment later, arms around his waist, face at his neck.

“I love you,” Yoochun whispered.

Jaejoong hugged him tightly, arms around the neck. “I love you. So much.”

“Happy?”

“Of course. You?”

Yoochun pulled away and touched his cheek. “Over the moon happy.”

“Hey, less sappy love fest and more heavy lifting,” Changmin said. “We did not come here to do the all the work and have you two just make lovey eyes at each other.”

“Lovey eyes,” Yoochun murmured. “Lovely, lovely eyes. I love your eyes.”

Jaejoong smiled, letting Yoochun take his hand and dance him around their living room floor.

“Ugh, I hope we weren’t this disgusting--” Junsu started.

“You two were having sex in public bathrooms for two years before you learned to controlled yourselves,” Yoochun said and spun Jaejoong under his arm and then pulled him back against his chest.

Jaejoong laughed and kissed Yoochun soundly on the lips. “Let’s hurry up and finish, then we can take a shower.”

“And then ass?” Yoochun said, an eyebrow raised.

Jaejoong felt a flush over his cheeks and he said, “Definitely.”

Yoochun smiled widely, kissed him one more time, and then said, “All right, let’s get back to work.”

♪ ♫ ♪ ♫ ♪

Jaejoong stood on the still-bare balcony of his brand new apartment. Everything was still so surreal. He’d met his soulmate less than three weeks ago and they were here, together. Mostly happy. Jaejoong still had issues when he could not shut up the “what ifs” and “it’s not really true” voices in his head. Usually, all Yoochun had to do was hum their soul song. Or sing it. He’d taken the lyrics that he’d scribbled on Jaejoong’s wrist and made them the lyrics to their soul song.

_“It doesn’t matter how bright the sun is because it’s your smile that lights up my world.”_

He repeated the short series of notes twice, and Jaejoong found himself singing along. Or humming along in Not-F majors. He could not tell if the notes were more distinct now or not. Maybe they were. He hoped they were. Most of the time, Yoochun was kissing him after singing the song, so he did not really have time to analyze the sounds.

Speaking of distinct. He shifted on his bare feet, twisting his back a little. A sharp, very distinct and very welcome pain thrummed through his lower body.

Sex was pretty amazing.

Yoochun had laughed when Jaejoong said that same thing not two hours ago. Of course he said something corny about what a god he was between the sheets. Besides sticking out his tongue, Jaejoong did not really argue. It was pointless to argue when it was true.

But Jaejoong could stand out there for only so long before he managed to work up the courage to do what it was he needed privacy for. He’d left Yoochun tinkering on his piano, pressing a kiss to his bare shoulder, and murmured that he’d be back.

But he was losing his nerve, staring at the brightened screen of his phone.

He hovered over the call button, took a very deep breath, and pressed it.

The other line rang twice before it was answered with a hello. Even over the phone, Jaejoong heard the confusion in his mother’s voice. He was not surprised. He never called. He was not really welcome.

“Mother,” Jaejoong started, very polite, very deferential. He cleared his throat. “How are you?”

“Fine, Jaejoong. What do you need?”

Short. To the point. Jaejoong fought back tears.

“I ... I just ... I wanted you to know ... I found ...” Jaejoong glanced back into the house, at the dim light that came from the music room. He took a deep breath. “I found my soulmate.”

There was silence on the line and then his mother said, “That is completely impossible. Do not lie.”

“It’s true,” Jaejoong whispered. “His name is Park Yoochun. He ... I met him a couple weeks ago.”

“I don’t appreciate this at all. You cannot call me with such lies to just make yourself look better. We all know that you cannot even hear--”

Jaejoong made a noise, cutting her off. He took a deep breath to keep himself from crying. “Look, I just called to tell you that I moved. To give you my new address,” Jaejoong hurried through.

His mother sighed deeply. “I am not in a place to get a pen. You could have texted it to me without telling such lies.”

“I’m ... sorry,” Jaejoong said, voice even lower than before. “I ...” He had wanted to invite her and his father to their housewarming party, but they wouldn’t come. He sighed. “Very well. I will text it to you. Have a good evening, Mother.”

She hung up without saying goodbye.

Jaejoong’s eyes were too blurry to see his phone, so he did not send her the text. He staggered back into the darkened house, to the light that was in the music room, to the light at his piano, playing slow music that did not help ease the pain in Jaejoong’s heart.

Yoochun glanced up and then was next to Jaejoong in a moment, arms around his waist, hugging him tightly.

Jaejoong cried, only slightly aware when Yoochun pulled them to the cushiony arm chair in the corner. He curled up, face pressed against his neck and sobbed. Yoochun said nothing distinct, soft murmurs, kisses on his head, a hand running up and down his back, until Jaejoong calmed down enough to say, “My mother ... she ... she didn’t believe me.”

Yoochun hummed in concern.

Jaejoong had only briefly told Yoochun of his family, of how little they spoke to him because of his unnaturality. He’d been shunned from his family long before he left to live on his own.

Yoochun didn’t say anything, and Jaejoong appreciated it. His arms and his presence was more reassuring than any words he could have said.

♪ ♫ ♪ ♫ ♪

Yoochun’s mother was gorgeous. Jaejoong should not have been surprised about that, since both of her sons were also gorgeous. She was also very nice, very happy, and very accepting of Jaejoong in her oldest son’s life. One of the first things out of her mouth was, “When is the wedding?”

Yoochun glanced over at Jaejoong and smiled. “I haven’t proposed yet.”

“You hurry up with that.”

“I will.”

Jaejoong blushed because well ... he sort of proposed. In bed. That one time. Well, the time after that too. And Jaejoong is sure that Yoochun asked him to marry him constantly. At least every other day.

And then he was completely embarrassed when Yoochun spun him around, yanked up his shirt to show his mother Jaejoong’s tattoos and started talking about wedding colors and flowers and venues.

Luckily, Junsu saved him, pulling him into the kitchen to get his carniverous soulmate away from all the galbi Jaejoong had prepared. An impossible task.

“Look, I also ... we brought you a present,” Junsu said and winked, holding out a small box.

Confused, Jaejoong took the box and opened it. He meeped, shut the box hastily and dropped it on the counter.

Junsu cackled, his laughter echoing all around the apartment. “Have fun with that!”

Yoochun came over, arm around Jaejoong’s shoulder, and he slapped Junsu over the head.

“Ow, what the hell?”

“Stop embarrassing him.”

Jaejoong buried his face in Yoochun’s neck and muttered, “He ... the box ... just ...”

Yoochun reached over with his other hand and opened the lid. He chuckled. The sound soft and sexy against Jaejoong’s ear.

“Wow. Thanks, Junsu. You’re an asshole, but thank you.”

“Assholes are the whole point of that toy.”

Changmin threw a pepper at him to shut up. “Child present,” he said motioning toward where Taemin was hovering a bit near them, flushing and just looking adorable, still in his school uniform.

Junsu laughed. “If his parents weren’t here, he’d already be drunk.”

“Do not get my son drunk, please,” Minho said, from across the room.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Changmin said, though Jaejoong had a feeling he was already thinking about it just for the entertainment factor.

Yunho and Yoohwan came a little late; Yunho had a very important meeting at work, and they came straight here afterwards. Yunho in a suit was a sight to behold, and Jaejoong found himself licking his lips and swallowing roughly at the smile shot his way.

“Goddamnit, Yunho,” Yoochun said and punched his arm. “Stop being so utterly sexy, would you?”

Yunho laughed, cheeks a little pink. “I can’t help it.”

Yoochun pulled Jaejoong close and grumbled, “I can’t believe you just licked your lips.”

Jaejoong felt bad, he really did, but ... well, Yunho was gorgeous. “Sorry,” Jaejoong whispered. “I ... he’s sort of shocking.”

“So are you,” Yoochun said and pulled away to smile at him. “You’re so beautiful, you take my breath away.”

Yoohwan cleared his throat next to them.

Jaejoong stiffened a bit. He hadn’t seen Yoochun’s younger brother since the first day they met.

Yoohwan tried to smile and he bowed a little bit. “I’m sorry, Jaejoong. For how I acted before.”

Jaejoong smiled back and said, “It’s okay.”

“Actually it’s not,” Yoochun said. “You were an asshole.”

“I was an asshole,” Yoohwan agreed and nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted.”

“Actually, it’s not,” Yoochun said. In a stage whisper, he said, “Come on, at least barter for something before you let him off the hook.”

Jaejoong laughed, and Yoohwan finally smiled.

Yoohwan went to greet his mother who was talking to Yoona, and then introduced himself to her and the family.

“So where are your parents?” Yunho asked Jaejoong.

Jaejoong’s face fell, and Yunho’s eyes widened in concern. “Shit, sorry. Fuck, was that ... are they dead? Are they ... you ... sorry.”

Yoochun hugged Jaejoong again. “No, his parents aren’t dead. They aren’t here. They couldn’t make it.”

Yunho looked between them and then nodded. He was probably expecting a longer explanation.

“Don’t you have cupcakes for dessert?” Yoochun asked Jaejoong, to pull attention away from his missing parents. His mother had asked the same questions before. But it definitely worked as a distraction technique.

Yunho’s eyes widened further, this time in anticipation.

Jaejoong laughed. “Yes, I do.”

♪ ♫ ♪ ♫ ♪

Jaejoong sank a bit deeper into the warm water of the bathtub. It was late at night, almost early in the morning. But after their friends had all left, Jaejoong wanted to relax.

His head was still pleasantly buzzed from the alcohol. His heart was still light and airy from how happy everyone was for him and Yoochun. The rejection of his parents still hurt, and he hadn’t dared call any of his sisters, but maybe soon, they’d accept the fact that he wasn’t so broken after all.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Yoochun said.

Jaejoong pried open an eye and smiled. Yoochun was wearing boxers, that was it. He’d been learning that at home, Yoochun did not like to wear clothes. Not that Jaejoong minded. More skin to touch for him. “Hey, yourself.”

“I came in here to drag you to bed. It’s late, but now I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

Jaejoong lifted an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Well, you’re just ... sexy and naked ... and I may have remembered that Junsu bought us a present.”

He trailed off and Jaejoong went bright red, remembering the penis-shaped glass sex toy sitting in that box.

“So yeah. If I drag you to bed right now, it will not be to sleep.”

Jaejoong pretended to ponder that, but if Yoochun could see through the milky water then he’d know how very interested Jaejoong was. He sat up, arms along the side of the tub and then pulled the plug.

“Let me rinse off,” Jaejoong said, noting Yoochun’s wide smile. “Don’t you dare start without me.”

Yoochun laughed. “Yes, sir!” He was saluted and then Yoochun spun around to go back into the bedroom.

Jaejoong watched him go in a flurry of fluffy long hair. Fluffy. Like a cat. Well, his lover and soulmate did like to be touched and petted.

Maybe they could get a cat.

But knowing Yoochun’s he’d probably name is something like Cock the Cat, just for fun.

Jaejoong bit his lip against laughter and sauntered mostly wet and still very naked into the bedroom where his soulmate was waiting for him.

♪ ♫ ♪ ♫ ♪

Jaejoong bowed at his favorite tattoo artist and said hello.

“Jaejoong, my name twin, do you still bare skin for me to paint?” Jaebeom embraced him and Jaejoong returned the embrace.

“A little bit,” Jaejoong said and lifted his shirt. “I need another music staff on my stomach.”

“Another one?”

Jaejoong smiled widely. “Yes. I met my soulmate.”

“No way, man! Awesome, congratulations!” He was hugged again, and then Jay was calling for Wooyoung, his soulmate, to hear the good news.

“He’s a musician, and I keep waking up to him writing music on my stomach. I thought I’d give him more room to work with.”

Both of them laughed, and Jay said, “That is so thoughtful of you,” in a very sugary tone. “Does he use his tongue to write music on your skin?”

Jaejoong felt himself blush and he stammered, “S-sometimes.”

They both laughed, and Jay led Jaejoong into the back room to get started on his new tattoo.

♪ ♫ ♪ ♫ ♪

“What are you hiding from me?” Yoochun demanded later that evening.

“A secret, obviously,” Jaejoong said, dancing away from Yoochun’s outspread hands.

“Don’t be mean, I want to touch you.”

“You always want to touch me.”

“And I always will. Stop it.”

Jaejoong continued to dodge his arms, around their small table, around the couch, out onto the balcony where he ran out of room unless he felt like jumping six stories.

Yoochun crossed his arms and pouted.

Jaejoong’s breath caught at how breathtaking he was, with the afternoon sun on his skin, wind blowing the ends of his hair off his bare skin and flicking shorter strands of it into his face. He was wearing slacks, mostly dressed for work later on in the evening.

“It’s a surprise,” Jaejoong said again. “Don’t spoil it.”

“I don’t like surprises if it means I can’t touch you,” he replied.

And who was Jaejoong kidding. He sighed and took a few steps closer so Yoochun could see and then he lifted his shirt and pushed his sweatpants down enough to show the plastic protecting his newest tattoos.

“What ...”

Jaejoong held still while Yoochun moved closer. “So you have more room,” Jaejoong whispered, “to compose in the morning.”

Yoochun glanced up at him and licked his lips. “And this?” He moved his finger above the plastic, to the words that were etched just above the music staves and right below his belly button. With the plastic over them, it was too hard to read.

“It doesn’t matter how bright the sun shines ...” Jaejoong said trailing off.

“...because it’s your smile that lights up my world,” Yoochun finished, singing the notes with the music that he wrote.

Jaejoong let his shirt fall and stepped into his lover. “I only have that first part, but I thought you might like to get the second part tattooed in the same place.”

“God, I love you.”

Jaejoong smiled and kissed him, hands tangling in Yoochun’s hair, pulling it free to fly in the sudden burst of warm wind.

“One more thing,” Jaejoong murmured against his lips.

Yoochun leaned away, eyebrow lifted in anticipation.

Grinning, Jaejoong dropped to a knee.

“Blowjob on the balcony? I will never say no to that.”

“No, ass!” Jaejoong said and shoved his hip. “I’m trying to be romantic.”

Yoochun laughed, and then it broke off with a cry of surprise. “Romantic? No, Kim Jaejoong. I ... I was ... you can’t ...”

Jaejoong smirked and took out a ring box from his pocket. “Too bad. You were taking too long.”

“Too long ... Kim ... Jaejoong ... this ...”

Jaejoong opened the box. The ring was a simple platinum band with three rubies sparkling from the metal. It had put a massive dent in his savings account, but to see the look of surprise and love on Yoochun’s face made the expense worth it. “I never thought I’d ever be this happy, this ... this ... happy,” Jaejoong said, trying to formulate the right words. “I just ... you make me so happy, and I never thought I’d deserve it. It was always my fate to be alone. And then you walked into my store, and danced into my soul.” Jaejoong had to swallow, throat a little too tight to continue.

So was Yoochun’s. He was gasping, tears on his cheeks.

“Park Yoochun, will you marry me?”

Yoochun fell to his knees and wrapped him up in a hug, soft cries in his ear. “Brat. I was going to do this.”

Jaejoong buried his own tears on Yoochun’s bare shoulder. "I still need a ring."

Yoochun pulled away, wiping at Jaejoong’s cheeks. “And I will buy you the best, most gorgeous piece of metal I can. You are the most amazing, beautiful, wonderful soul in the entire world. I’m so lucky that you’re mine. I’m so lucky that you tried so hard to be everything that I knew you were. You deserve every ounce of happiness this world has to offer, and I promise that I will spend the rest of our lives making sure you get it all.”

Jaejoong smiled, leaning against the hand on his cheek. “So yes?”

Yoochun chuckled. “Yes. With all my soul and everything I am that fortunately echoes through everything that you are, yes. Soulmates?”

Jaejoong nodded. “Soulmates.”


End file.
